We Live As We Die
by ForeverYoursEmma
Summary: Part 3: He cries harder into my shoulder and I whisper in his ear, "Don't worry, I'll help you. We're friends now and I am very good at fixing people." ON HIATUS
1. Prologue

**Welcome back to anyone who submitted before and just welcome to anyone who is trying my story for the first time. We Live As We Die is a submit story, but I'm going to start with a short chapter to introduce you to our victors from the last two stories and so you can get a sample of my writing style. The following takes place at the Victory Tour's party at the Capitol.**

…

**District 2 Victor Season Vitale's POV**

The 76th Hunger Games ruined everything.

I find that after six months of mistakes, that was the most logical excuse to give. But now, standing in a room full of people who want to know you're everything, I find that my perfect excuse isn't so perfect after all.

The Capitol didn't want to hear you problems, they wanted to hear your success. In the last six months, I have had nothing successful to report. Though, I should count myself lucky that this isn't my own Capitol Victory Tour party. I am only sought after if Knox and Bella were too busy. Still, people want to talk to someone victorious. If only they knew we weren't so great.

A waitress passes by with a try of brightly colored cocktails and I grab the first one my hand finds. I drown it down the minute the glass rim hit my mouth and reach for another.

Sip.

The 76th Hunger Games ruined my marriage.

Sip.

The 76th Hunger Games ruined my relationships.

Sip.

The 76th Hunger Games ruined my family.

Sip.

The 76th Hunger Games ruined my sanity.

I let the empty glass tumble to the floor and I watch it go down. It is almost like it is in slow motion. That describes my life perfectly. However, no matter how slow the glass goes down, it does not affect how hard it hits the ground.

Crash.

The 76th Hunger Games ruined my life.

**District 12 Victor Storm Loret's POV**

In a room where everyone knows my name, how can I feel so alone? Everyone wants to talk to me, get to know me. Still, there is a hole where my caring for people used to be. I don't know when I lost this, but I feel like it hasn't been there in awhile.

I hate Capitol parties, even ones held in the beautiful mansion of President Snow. I hate the fakeness, the dream-like state it puts you in. I can always feel the bubbly, drunken air suffocating me. The sounds are too high or too low for my ears to comprehend. I hate every minute of it.

"Drink, sir," a high-pitched voice asks from behind me. I turn to see a semi-attractive waitress around my age balancing a tray of drinks. By the way her eyes are looking at me up and down and the way her smile never leaves her face, I can tell she knows who I am.

"Whatever," I mutter, taking a drink from the tray and having a slow sip. The girl smiles a bit wider and places the tray on a nearby table. I note that within a few seconds, the tray in empty.

"So, what is it like being a Hunger Games victor?" I hate the question, especially the way she asks it, with no care for what I had to do to win. People always ask me and I never give them a straight answer. What is it like? It sucks. But of course, you can't tell a bunch of drunken Capitol people that without causing uproar. I'm sure I would be dead by morning anyway.

I have patience for Capitol women. I would usually give more respectable answer to the higher class ones, but she is nothing more than a waitress. "What do you think it's like?"

The girl's expression goes cold and she immediately snaps up her tray. "I have to go work." She knows better than to insult one the major guests. She begins to walk away, but she stops suddenly. "Enjoy your mimosa."

I choke on the sip I had just taken. I observe the drink to see it was in fact a mimosa. Sometimes, I just don't notice. I place the drink on the table and force down the sip I had nearly choked on.

I hadn't thought or heard that name in a long time. I tried to block out painful memories. I find it is the only way to live. Sometimes, at night, I can still picture her face and hear her voice, but those are just fleeting memories. Hearing her name brings back a whole flood of constrained moments.

Life after the Games was made to be easy, not hard. One would assume you just live a life of comfort until you die of a natural cause. One would be thinking wrong. My life is not comfortable in the slightest. I hear of victors "disappearing" everyday. The victor life is not the charmed life.

No matter how much you try, you just can't admit it is living hell.

**District 5 Victor Knox Overstreet's POV**

"Knox Overstreet, President Snow requests your presence." I nearly drop the plate of food I am holding when I hear that. I turn to see to large, nicely dressed men behind me. Each one was at least five inches taller than me and weighed a whole lot more.

"Okay," I say, too scared to say anything else. I quickly place my plate of food down and follow the two men out of the large ball room and into a much smaller, private study. President Snow was standing behind a large, expensive looking desk that takes up most of the room.

"Hello Knox. Gentlemen, you may wait outside." Just like that, the door is slammed shut and it is just me and the President. "It is nice to see you Knox."

"And you sir," I say, giving a small bow of my head. I stand in my spot, waiting for him to say something, anything.

"I'm sure you are wondering why you are here," President Snow says, a smile slowly spreading on his face. The smile reminded me of someone else's smile. It had the same deceptive quality.

"That's right, Mr. President," I say awkwardly. I know how I must look, pale and wide-eyed. I always had trouble masking my fear, unlike someone…

"Please, call me Snow. I have a proposition for you," Snow says, the smile growing like her's used to do. It is now I notice how much the room smelled of blood and roses. It was enough to make a person faint.

"What would this proposition be, Snow?" I ask while attempting to breathe only through my mouth. I could not faint in Snow's office.

"You have generated quite a lot of talk after you one your Games, especially from women here. Many people refer to you as the boy who killed his girlfriend." I had heard people talk about that, sometimes to me, other times not. I hear it has become legendary already. I can't bring myself to be proud.

"I have heard that," I comment when I notice Snow hasn't said anything in awhile. Snow nods at me before continuing.

"Since you have become so…desirable, I was thinking it was time to take the next step. How old are you, Knox?" Snow asks.

"Eighteen," I say uneasily. I don't know why, but I feel that whatever Snow is planning, it won't be very good for me.

"Good," Snow says with a nod. "I was thinking the Capitol girls would be interested in a…night with you. This will bring money for the Capitol and popularity for you. Do you see what I mean?"

It takes me a minute to wrap my head around it. "You want me to sleep with random Capitol women for money that goes to the Capitol?"

"Precisely," Snow says. "Of course, you gain things too. The women will give you many gifts and this will only make you popularity grow. What do you think?"

"And what if I refuse?" I ask. I sound a bit colder than I meant to be, but this was unbelievable. President Snow expects me to sleep with a bunch of women just so the Capitol could get money. I thought my life was as horrible as it was going to get. Looks like I am wrong.

"Tell me, do you have family and friends Knox?" He doesn't have to say more. I get what he means. If I don't do it, he will kill off my family one by one. I am not going to risk their lives.

"I'll do it," I tell Snow, but my gaze is cold. I don't bother waiting for the smile to grow or the stench of roses and blood to strength. I just turn around to leave.

"The boy who killed his girlfriend, what a great name you've made for yourself. What was her name again? Oh yes, L…"

I slam the door close before he could finish her name.

Somehow I make it back to the ball room without any trouble. I assumed that slamming the door on the President would not blow over well. Now, I am just standing around waiting for the cue to leave. I must have already drunken three different cocktails and now I have moved on to champagne.

People have stopped seeking me out after I screamed at this man asking me about her. He almost said her name. Now, people just give me looks of confusion. I have also seen a few disgusted glances. I am the one watching them though.

One group had continually attracted my attention. It is a group of boys, most around my age. They must be children of rich Capitol citizens. Each has different tattoos, alterations, hair, and everything else you could think of. Something about them thought seemed so much realer than anyone else here.

They seem to have taken notice to me as well. One boy, who must be the leader, approaches me followed by the rest of the group. The boy has black slashes tattooed across his face and red hair that could poke someone's eyes out.

"You're that victor who killed his girlfriend." I hated people calling me that, but there is something refreshing about someone just boldly saying it to my face.

"I am," I say, swallowing the rest of my champagne. The boys seem to take kindly to this and they all begin to smile.

"We're going to the Underground City, you know the place where Capitol kids gamble and get wasted, want to come?"

If this had happened a year and a half ago, I would have feared these kids. But now, they fear me. I have killed and the worst any of them have done is rob a store. They wanted me with them to seem cool. Sure, they were just using me like the rest of the Capitol, but they were young and reckless, which is what I need.

I grab one last drink and chug it down. "Sure, what the hell. I have nothing to lose anyway."

**District 3 Victor Bella Cauthen's POV**

I watch Knox leave with the group of Capitol boys. I see the boys hanging on to every word he says like he is some god. He might as well be here. _Is this your escape, Knox? Having a bunch of people follow you and for what?_

I take another bite of my soup before realizing it has become tasteless. I absent-mindedly put it back on the soup table and glance around the room. I spot Season Vitale staring at a broken glass on the floor. I have seen her drinking all night. I find another spot in the room and see Storm Loret staring into space. As I glance around, I see many victors all looking lost and confused. I guess it is not only me and Knox. We are just the newest of the bunch.

"Hi." The voice was bright, symbolizing Capitol. It was a feminine voice, maybe a girl my age. I turn to see I am correct. A very District looking girl is behind me. Without the dress and make-up, she would look more District than me. She had straight brown hair with little amounts of streaks. Her eyes are brown with rims of blue around them. She is extremely thin, even for Capitol. After close examination, I don't see any alterations.

"Hello," I say somewhat awkwardly. I still don't like Capitol, even if they are normal looking like her.

"I'm Jazz McNeely and I know you are Bella Cauthen," the girl says, extending her hand. I shake it quickly and drop it back down. "I really wanted to meet you."

I nod along, not knowing what to say. I try to look around for anyone else to talk to. I don't feel like relating to a Capitol girl. "I know you must feel awkward," Jazz says. "Sorry, I just have to ask you a question."

"What?" I was sick of questions, but I am forced to answer anyway.

"How do you get through all of us? Capitol citizens coming up to you asking you how it feels, oblivious to what you had to do?"

My jaw would drop if I knew I could do it. But I had to remain cool for everyone else. Jazz's straightforwardness was very shocking. I don't know anyone who would ever ask that. "It is horrible."

"I thought so," Jazz says with a thoughtful nod. She seems to go deep into thought. I don't bother drawing her back out. I am still so shocked by her answer.

"Jazz, we're going!" a younger girl screams at Jazz. The girl has already gotten her hair dyed purple. She did look like Jazz though. I assume it is her sister.

"I have to go," Jazz tells me. "Good luck with everything."

"I'll see you around," I call. I don't know if I will, but I hope I do. She is so refreshingly normal.

"It might be sooner than you think," Jazz yells back before following the little girl. Maybe she isn't completely normal. This is the Capitol.

…

**I would look out for Jazz too.**

**Now, on to what you have been waiting for, the submitting. However, before you submit, please read this list of requirements. I know it may seem like I'm being picky, but if you really want to be in a story that will finish, I would follow them.**

**Emma's Tribute Guidelines:**

**First and for most, tributes are preferred by PM. Just review with what District you are taking and your tributes gender. You may submit two, but if one is a girl, the other must be a boy. Also, please use my form.**

**Name:**** First and Last people. Make it Panem like as well. If I feel your name is too normal, I will message you with suggestions.**

**District: ****This is partially first come first serve. If you submit a tribute to a District no one else submits to, you have a better chance of getting that spot. If you are among the fifty tributes up for District 1 girl, I will have to pick the best suited tribute.**

**Personality: ****Don't go with the same old tom-boy girl or blood-thirsty boy. Make your tribute pop. The minimum is two lines, three is better.**

**Appearance:**** I want nothing too over the top. Also two lines here as well or more. You must also add two physical imperfections.**

**Background:**** The same two or more lines. Please don't be over dramatic. I can take a parent or sibling death, but no orphan kids or kids with completely scarred backgrounds.**

**Strengths and Weaknesses:**** I want at least three strengths and five weaknesses. I want more weaknesses so your tribute can be more believable.**

**Weapon:**** If your tribute is not a Career or doesn't have a good reason, don't give them a weapon they can do well. I will not have them go in with no weapon abilities, but they shouldn't know a weapon automatically.**

**That is all. Try to meet most of the requirements, but I will not throw out your character if you forget one or two. If you completely ignore them, that is when I will not consider your tribute. Here is the form:**

Name:

Age:

District:

Gender:

Personality:

Background:

Friends/Family:

Appearance:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Weapons:

*District Token:

*Reaping Outfit:

*Chariot Outfit:

*Interview Outfit:

Quote for the interview:

Interview Angle:

Mentor:

Stylist:

Alliances:

Career?:

Relationships:

*Other:

**I wish you good luck. The list will be posted when I get all my tributes here. There will also be a forum where you can check out all the other characters and chat about the Games. The list will be on the forum first. Peace, Love, Carpe Diem, and All That Jazz.  
-Emma**


	2. The Unsettling Capitol Life

**The list is at the bottom. However, in order to avoid getting reported and such, I put a short chapter in first. This introduces you to the McNeelys, our Capitol family. They won't play a huge role in the story; they are just here for a change of pace. Enjoy!**

…

**Jazz McNeely's POV**

I hated the quiet the Capitol presented in the morning. There was a feeling of waiting involved in it that someone like me just couldn't get use to even after nineteen years of Capitol life. It is unsettling.

There was something special about this morning, something that made it abnormally quiet. I can't put my finger on it. Still, I force myself to roll out of bed and into my bathroom. The unsettling feeling is not subsiding, but it if further ignored as I feel myself waking up.

In the mornings when I first look in the mirror, a District girl looks back at me. She has pasty skin and stringy blonde hair. Her eyes are too sunken in and her overall figure is too scrawny. She looks normal. I wish I was her all the time.

Unfortunately, I was born and raised in the Capitol, not in a District. I cover the pastiness and blue rings with an overdose of makeup and pull my hair into a tight bun. The girl before me is now Jazz McNeely, an everyday, good for nothing Capitol girl. That is all Jazz McNeely will ever be.

I finish getting dressed for work, looking nicer than usual. Normally, working behind the cameras of a morning talk show consisted of fetching coffee for the director and staying out of frenzied workers way, which means grand clothes aren't required. Today was different. Today is the day I get to go in front of the camera.

I walk into the hallway of my family's flat to find it extremely dark, even for morning. The only light is a blue shadow from the TV. I enter the living room and kitchen area to find my younger sister, Roxlie, sitting on the couch, her deep purple locks of hair spilling over the couch.

"Are mom and dad at work?" I ask, craning to get a peek of what she is watching. Her head popping over the couch blocks my view.

"No, they went to some party," Roxlie replies before her head disappears back behind the couch, leaving only her curls. A loud blast of a cheesy theme song plays out of the TV and I see the face of Myse Horneck, one of the many morning talk show hosts. I hate her more than any other which does make her working at my network any better.

"Are any episodes of the Towers on?" I ask, joining my sister on the couch.

Roxlie gives me a classic "are you kidding me?" look that thirteen year olds have mastered so well. "You really want to watch The Towers? Don't you know what today is?" Roxlie follows her question with an eye roll, another signature of hers.

"A Friday?" I joke. I receive another eye roll for that one. While laughing at my little sister's frustration, I glance at my watch. I almost fall off the couch seeing how late it is. "You can tell me what day it is later; I have to get to work."

"I don't think your boss will notice if he doesn't get one of his fifty morning coffees," Roxlie comments. She does have a point, but it isn't the point. I must not have told her what makes today special for me.

"I get to be on this morning. I am announcing something big. Apparently, District 14 is finally ready to join the Hunger Games." Suddenly, the TV's sound is off and Roxlie's face is back, full of excitement and bewilderment.

"District 14! There is a District 14!" Her face shows explosions of little girl excitement girls her age try so hard to hide. That same face is going to be made by everyone in the Capitol in a matter of hours.

"I know, leave it to the Capitol to keep something like this under wraps," I mutter. I don't know why I feel so annoyed with the Capitol's secret District. I don't consider myself to be one of those blood thirsty Capitol citizens who would want more kids in the arena. It is just something about all the secrecy the Capitol had gone through to keep this hidden.

"District 14, that's bigger news than…" Roxlie stops for a moment, looking back to find a brainless comparison. "Bigger than when they announced you could pierce your eyebrows!"

It is a horrible comparison, but one that does come from a little girl. However, the fact that half the Capitol would agree with it and the other half would argue that a more ridiculous analogy is fit is what makes it horrifying. District 14 was as a bigger shock than the Katniss/Peeta situation. That is a worthy comparison.

"What is District 14 like?" Roxlie asks eagerly. I can't help but look at my watch again. I am even shorter on time than I thought. If I don't make it to the station, Myse would get my spot. I haven't been working for a year and a half just to watch Myse steal my big break.

"I don't know. They didn't give me much background." A simple, but effective lie. Roxlie pouts her lip a little, but I have built up a strong shield for the pout after years of practice. "Now, where is Daze?"

"In here, listening to you two yelling." Hearing Daze's yelling only heightens my irritation for my family. He is hung-over, again. I have stopped keeping track of how many times he is hung-over and stated counting how many times he is not. I don't think I have one time on that list.

I turn my back on immature Roxlie and narrow my eyes at a puffy eyed Daze. "Are you serious? I know I told you that you will have to take care of Roxlie today."

"Some of us have more important things to do," Daze mutters, rubbing temples that I can see throbbing from where I am standing ten feet away. It will only be a matter of time before he throws up or passes out.

"You're right. People like me! I have to get to my job and last time I checked, you don't have one!" I make sure to scream extra loud. Daze deserves to sweat. It has been like this for two years, maybe more. I knew he did alcohol for awhile, but it is the new addiction to drugs that has him in this state all the time.

"I do have a job," Daze grumbles.

"Running an illegal, underground city for drug users, alcoholics, obsessive gamblers, and more is not a job. It is a death sentence waiting to happen!" All I get from him is a shudder. We have been having this argument from the minute he started his underground casino and I feel it will never end.

"And like your job is real? All you are doing is feeding the Capitol community propaganda. I am rebelling," Daze mutters.

"When are you going to wake-up Daze?" I say in a low growl. I don't have the energy and time to finish the argument that was on the way to the real screaming. We can have it later, when Roxlie is far away.

I turn back to Roxlie, who has been pretending to watch the news the whole time. "Roxlie, do I want to know where Shaw is?"

"Are you going to yell again if I tell you?" Roxlie murmurs. I know she is trying to seem annoyed with Daze and my arguing, but I can hear the fear in her voice. She is still our little sister and our arguing still scares her.

"He is at some girl's house. What else is new?" Daze's voice brings on a new set of anger waves, but I only crush my hands into fists and ignore him.

"Roxlie, just get yourself to school on time," I tell her, trying to remain calm for her sake. Roxlie's face breaks from slightly fearful to another look of disgust.

"I knew you forgot. It's Reaping Day which means no school. And you call yourself a reporter. Roxlie flips her hair like a true Capitol socialite and goes back to her TV show. I shake my head at her, ashamed once again to call her a sister.

Reaping Day, I had actually forgotten. I can't believe I had forgotten since it is all my workplace can talk about. People are betting on which District will have the villain this time. I shamefully bet on District 2 again. People like Livia were born and bread there. Elena was just a fluke.

"Just stay here Roxlie," I say with a sigh as I go to grab my jacket. Roxlie gives a groan in response, but nods her head. I don't cast a glance in Daze's direction. "Call me when Shaw gets home too."

I don't wait for another Roxlie grunt and walk out the door. I chose the stairs over the elevator and rocket out of my building. The Capitol is less noisy today since everyone is locked up in their houses watching Reapings. It will make getting to work a breeze.

I board my usual express with out a problem, surprising myself. Now, with a twenty minute ride ahead of me, I can prepare for my announcement.

District 14 interested and confused me from the moment I heard about it. How does a District keep out of the Hunger Games for fifteen years? I assumed the District tried to keep their population low. However, that still didn't seem to be a reason for the Capitol to not include them. It was more blood for the Capitol.

Maybe 14 has not developed that much over the fifteen years. The District was made to harvest different energy sources like solar and wind power. It could have taken awhile to get that started up. Still, some part of the District 14 puzzle is incomplete.

I clear my head of the District 14 confusion. I am just retelling the news, not examining it fully. I tune my hearing to the gossip on the train. As I suspected, the only thing everyone could talk about is the Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games has always been a sore spot for me. I try to remain indifferent on the subject. Being indifferent may be the most difficult thing to do. I always feel like I lean more to one side than the other. I just never got used to the idea of killing children for sport. Yet, I feel like I am denying part of where I come from by hating everything they celebrate. I spend countless sleepless nights starting when the quiet begins thinking about how I really feel. After years of analyzing, I call myself bitterly acceptant.

Listening to the people around me, I feel like I can't hate them. They talk about these murdering festivities because they are taught to love the sport not hate the Districts. Despite District belief, Capitol children are raised more to love not hate. When growing in a world where we are not exposed to pain and suffering, how do we know how to blame and hate something? I don't condone the Capitol for their behavior. I simply don't celebrate it.

I am so wrapped up in my own thoughts and perceptions; I don't notice the express is at my stop until I feel the not so good-natured pushes of those around me. I snap out of my thinking mind-set and shuffle off the express like the rest of the Capitol citizens. As the express doors slide shut, I slide the doors shut on my own thoughts of right and wrong. As my brother says, I have to go spit propaganda into people's faces.

The walk to my building is short, but I still find myself speeding into the stage area with seconds to spare. I see Myse wrapping things up as I burst through the doors.

"Razz, you're late," My boss says before talking a long sip of his coffee. I have been working here for a year and a half, but my boss still does not care to learn my name. I am just another Capitol girl looking for fame and fortune to him. "You're make-up and hair will have to do. Go!"

I am pushed into the chair before I can even ask a question. There is no time for questions in the Capitol world. The camera man is giving me the signal and I pickup the paper on my table. It is my first show time and I'm going to make the best of it.

"Hi, I'm Jazz McNeely and you're watching Good Morning Capitol. I'm here with a special announcement."

An announcement that will have everyone knowing my name. Maybe it won't be right away, but I am heading straight to the top, leaving behind any scarred background or rotten sibling. I am going to Jazz McNeely, not an everyday Capitol girl. Just Jazz McNeely.

…

**There you have it. As I said, the family will not be the center of things and it won't just be Jazz. They just play an important role in our victors' stories this time around. Now, on to the list. I did have to move a few Districts. Sorry, but it has to happen. And I did go with the clichéd extra District, but I promise, it won't be a huge deal. Anyway, District 14 is going to be pretty special.**

**District One**

**Male: Marco von Erich**

**Female: Bliss Honeycutt**

**District Two**

**Male: Antonia Sinclair**

**Female: Benevolence Valencia**

**District Three**

**Male: Shiloh McCarthy**

**Female: Miles McCarthy**

**District Four**

**Male: Camille Booth**

**Female: Kantix Kosmelt**

**District Five**

**Male: Dexter Hasselback**

**Female: Katarina Peters**

**District Six**

**Male: Finn Darrenhall**

**Female: Cetera Jellon**

**District Seven**

**Male: Steam Trace**

**Female: Sunday Lancast**

**District Eight**

**Male: Ian Williams**

**Female: Kamira Lyre**

**District Nine**

**Male: Todd Halder**

**Female: Almond Willow**

**District Ten**

**Male: Raze Tanners**

**Female: Lyli Hyerman**

**District Eleven**

**Male: Arin Andrews**

**Female: Tawncy Moriatri**

**District Twelve**

**Male: Azrael Lupin**

**Female: Vina Renna**

**District 14**

**Male: Karter Neandra**

**Female: Astrid Aelish**

**There you go. The Reapings for the first four should be out on Wednesday since I have no school. Also, since I received most of the profiles by PM, to see the profiles or your District partner and others, go to the forum.**

**Reviews are wonderful. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.  
-Emma**


	3. Reapings 1, 2, 3, and 4

**The first four Reapings are here! I love not having school on a Wednesday! Still, I have a lab report to type after this. But anyway, enjoy!**

…

**District 1: Bliss Honeycutt's POV**

My eyes flicker across the brightly lit room for a point of interest, one I could stare out with out question for the next thirty or so minutes. The sounds of controlled chatter ring in my ears, but that is nothing compared to the thumping of my own heart. It is only breakfast.

"Could you believe that only three years ago our little Tiara volunteered?" my mother gushes. My eyes turn briefly to Tiara and I watch her beam with self-pride. She is only home now for Reaping breakfasts. I believe that is a little too much.

"I couldn't believe it either," Tiara says with faux modesty. I roll my eyes back to my fixated position. The only thing my mother hasn't done for Tiara is bowed down at her feet. I am still waiting for that moment to come. She won't be bowing down to me any time soon.

I can't call my relationship with my mother perfect. No, it wasn't a train wreck, it was detached. We use to have big blow-outs over the stupidest things. That was only a year ago. She hasn't changed, I have. I know my mother blames it on my father's walk-out. I don't. He had every right to walk out that door. I wish I could have walked out with him. My growing-up is something far different, something I will never trust my mother with.

My hatred of Tiara is a different story. Even before she became self-appointed Princess Tiara, I hated her. She was best friends with the most…I can't bring myself to insult Emma Stewart. It is not wise to speak ill of the dead. Tiara became an everyday, District 1 snob. I think I hated her before that, but I don't know the just of that.

"Sicily, slow down. You don't want to be fat _and_ ugly," my mother snaps at my younger sister. Sicily responds by shoveling another spoonful of caviar into her mouth.

"Mother." I will only ever break my silence for Sicily. It is not her fault she got a different look than me and Tiara. While my sister and I have soft features, Sicily has sharper bones in her cheeks, chin, and nose. The sharper look does not make her ugly, but compared to me and Tiara, it makes her look different. Different was not a nice quality in District 1.

Sicily is the only person I will ever admit to loving. I loved in the past, but not anymore. I don't even talk to my friends anymore and forget boyfriends. Ever since Marco…

Sicily is different. She understands me and I understand her. As much as I had tried, I couldn't push her away when I found out about my condition a year ago. Although I have yet to tell her, I know I will. Sicily is the perfect sister to have and better than anyone I have ever known.

"Bliss, darling, you do not need to keep defending you sister," my mother tells my sharply. "Now be a dear and get Mimosa." I immediately get up to do as I am told. If there is one thing I have learned over the past year, it is that people like you so much more if you do as they say. I don't care if my mother likes me or not. I just don't want to be hated by her.

I walk up to my youngest sister's room. She is asleep as usual. Sometimes I fear my mother had drunk too much during pregnancy and it affected Mimi's sleeping pattern. Still, upon hearing my footsteps, she starts to cry.

"There, there Mimi," I say in a quiet voice as I lift my little sister out of her crib. I can tell she has the makings of another beauty. I am glad it won't be until Sicily is out of the house. I carefully rock her back to a sleeping like state. My mother will take care of her when the Reaping begins.

I put her down for the time being and go back into my own room. I put on the short, black dress my mother instructed and slip on the heels. I walk into my bathroom and assess today's damages.

My skin does not show any signs of bruising, but a fresh patch of red shows itself on my neck. Nothing a little cover-up won't solve. When I finish, I work a brush through my curly, blonde hair and finish my look with a little make-up. I find it hard to even put on make-up now with out my skin complaining.

The clock on my bathroom counter announces only five more minutes until I have to start heading out. The only thing left to do is grab my jacket. As I slide it on, I hear the reassuring rattle of my two pill bottles I had sewn in last night. I hope it will be enough for the arena.

Living through a year of cancer was hard, but living through cancer in the Hunger Games will be harder. But I have weighed the odds over and over in my head. No matter what, I will die anyway. I might as well put up a fight.

**Marco von Erich's POV**

Reaping day. The only day that will be worth remembering this year. Well, aside from the day I win the Games. After years of training, this will be my year.

I walk outside to be greeted by the District 1 sun and Cat. My "friend" smiles at me from her the place on the gate where she is lounging. She is a pretty thing. She is no perfect catch, but she works well in the benefits category of friends.

"Hey there," Cat purrs, hopping down from my fence. She gives me a seductive smirk as I come to greet her. "I missed you," she whispers.

"Where are the other two?" I ask.

"Do they matter?" she retorts, showing signs of jealousy. I laugh at her immature anger and shake my head.

"Of course not," I whisper in her ear before kissing her neck. I hear her giggle into my shirt before I pull away. "What do you think of my Reaping clothes?"

Cat accesses my maroon dress shirt and black pants. "I think it would be better if you shirt was off," she says with a playful smile. "You can't keep hiding those abs."

"You're right, they are perfect, but I don't think the peacekeepers would appreciate the new tribute being half-naked," I admit.

Cat gives a stifling, somewhat confuse laugh. "What?" I must not have told her my intents for this year. The girl didn't train with me and my twin, Lace.

"I didn't you hear? I am volunteering this year," I say and start to walk on to the street, Cat follows close behind, more confused than ever.

"But why?" she asks in a whining voice.

"I need to show the Capitol who is the best," I tell her. By the look on her face, she is more disappointed than thrilled. "Don't worry, babe. When I win, you can hang-out in Victor's Village any day, any time."

"What if you don't win?" Cat sneers. Her insult stops me in my tracks. I almost forgot how persistent she was. She is worse than my ex-girlfriend.

"I'm going to win, but I won't have you to thank for it, I see." I give her a look of disgust. "Good luck sleeping around here in District 1 now and after I return. We are over as friends." I leave her standing in the road, looking about ready to cry. I have been known to do that with girls. Not like I care about Cat anymore. She didn't compare to most of the girls in District 1.

I finish stomping my way to the square to join with the rest of the District 1 seventeen year olds. I see Cat join at some point, but I don't even give her a cruel glance. I find Seas, another one of my friends, to talk to.

"Looking good, Marco," Seas says as she evaluates me. Seas has always been my bolder friend, but she can always deal out the compliments. She runs a hand through my straight blonde hair and smiles. "I heard what happened with Cat. You know I'm there for you, right?"

"Why wouldn't you be," I say with a smile. At the mention of Cat, I subtly look around the crowd for her again. I find her and she is shamelessly flirting with another, less attractive guy. For a brief second, she locks eyes with me. She acts like she didn't and goes straight back to her new boy. Typical.

The mayor taps on the microphone to the get everyone's attention. He is a plump man with thinning hair and a point of ridicule for the younger District 1 citizens. He is always proud to be representing District 1. He makes the History and Victor List go as briefly as possible. Soon, our Capitol announcer, Topsy graces the stage.

"Hello District 1!" The over eager Capitol escort trills her way through a speech focusing mainly on herself before getting to the girls' tribute bowl. "Your female tribute is…Cat Maylor!"

I nearly choke on my own laugh as I watch Cat climb the stage, looking scared, but thrilled at the same time. Of course, I know she won't be up there for long. Someone is bound to volunteer.

As if on cue, a loud voice announces itself. "I volunteer!" The crowd desperately searches for the new tribute. A blonde girl emerges from my section and mounts the stage. I know that blonde, curly hair. It is Bliss Honeycutt.

"And what is your name?" Topsy inquires, not looking at Bliss, but at the cameras. She ignores the disappointed Cat leaving the stage, but give her a large smile with my perfectly straight teeth. Cat keeps her head down in shame and returns to her boy who is already flirting with someone else.

"I'm Bliss Honeycutt," she says, no smile just a look of determination.

"Congratulations Bliss!" Topsy yells over the large applause. Topsy quickly moves on to the next bowl before people completely ignore her. "Our male tribute is…"

"I volunteer!" Topsy doesn't even read the name before I start walking to the stage. Whistles follow me as I take my place next to Bliss. To my delight, her eyes are wide and her look of determination is wiped clean.

"And you…"

"Marco von Erich," I announce to the crowd who continue to cheer me, mostly the women. Topsy desperately steps in front of me to stop the cheering.

"Congratulations Marco! Now, back to the mayor," Topsy screams over the huge applause. I smile and wave to my audience. This is all just as I had planned. Well, not exactly. The only thing that makes it better is the frightened and horrified look on my ex-girlfriend's face. I guess Bliss still hasn't forgiven me for cheating on her. Oh well.

**District 2: Benevolence Valencia's POV**

The arrow races past my ear, hitting the target dead on. No, not dead on. It went a few centimeters to the left. I will have to fix that when I begin the three day training for the Games. Maybe if I tilt my bow a few…

"Ben! What are you doing?" It is my sister, Jana. I can tell already she is extra annoyed today. This was the last year she could get into the Games, but she lost to Anna Sinclair. The fact that she lost was bad enough, but to Anna Sinclair…that was a travesty in her eyes. I will never tell Jana that her knife throwing skills are mediocre at best and she has to fix the way she holds to knife or else the trajectory is a total mess. That would be a real travesty.

"I was working on my accuracy. It seems that my arrow leans to far…" By the look Jana is giving me, I can tell she doesn't want to hear it. Jana is still pissed off that I won the trail, meaning I would be volunteering. It is not because she loves me. I hope she does, but it is unlikely. She is angry because I have only been working at it for three years. At fifteen, I am the youngest to ever win the trial. Jana is eighteen. It is not hard math.

"We need to go," she snaps. "Get dressed." With that, she storms away. Sometimes, I hate knowing we are related. She shows most of the many traits I hate in people. She is arrogant over abilities she doesn't have and absolutely brainless. Since she is my sister, I have to acknowledge her existence.

I shoot one more arrow at my target, but this time in lazy anger. It is in the red circle, but just barely. I throw my weapons to the ground and walk towards the boys' locker rooms. This is what happens when you associated with people, they throw you off.

I grab my clothes out of my locker and throw them on without care. Appearances are for people who are shallow. I walk into the tiny bathroom and glance in the grim covered mirror. My forehead still shows signs of acne that will not go away. My pin straight, ash blonde hair does nothing to cover it up. My clothes make my look skinnier than usual and my glasses aren't staying on my face. But I am still me.

I walk back into the archery training room to find an impatient Jana and my younger sister Marcella waiting. "It's about time," Jana sneers at me as I join them. Marcella nods along with her, but does not say anything.

"Well, you can't expect a person…" Jana gives me another scowl and Marcella rolls her eyes at me. I don't bother finishing my sentence again and follow the two out of the Training Center.

I expected my father to be waiting, but he is nowhere to be found. I think about asking Jana where he is, but I actually don't want to know. I just find it strange. My father and I are less than friends. Our whole relationship is based on training. Who has been training well, who hasn't, how my aim is, and so on. When I first started training, I liked all the attention he gave me. After about six months though, it became unbearable. He was too involved for my taste, too interested. It drove me insane.

I wish I could go back to the point where he ignored me. That was when Felix still kind of trained. That was just a wasted of my father's time. I wish he was more like my mother, unattached, but unstrained.

I know my father breed me to be a victor and I will be one. But I'm doing it for me, not for him.

**Antonia Sinclair's POV**

_Win._

It is the word and it will always be the word. It doesn't matter what I have to do or how I have to do it. Completing the meaning of the word is everything to me.

People wouldn't think that. Everyone here is District 2 thinks they know me or at least half of me. Some see me as an everyday, hard-working District 2 girl. Others see me as a bitch that needs to get out of their way. People in District 2 think they know everything.

Still, they do know how to win.

Every time I look in the mirror, I see a winner. How many can honestly say they feel that way? It doesn't matter that I am not the prettiest, smartest, or any mix of qualities marked "good". I have a quality that outshines all the qualities. The determination to win.

Now, standing in the middle of the eighteen year olds for the Reaping, I know it is my time to win. Who cares if my District partner is a little boy who does not know how to talk the talk? If he can shoot a bow and arrow half as good as I can wield a sword, he is just fine. It is not like he is going to win or anything.

"You ready?" my only friend, Ares, asks. His concern is a bit shocking to say the least. He is not one to care about the Games unless it is about how wrong they are. He should have been born in 12. However, he is a good enough friend, one who doesn't question my intentions or my personality.

"Of course," I say, unflinching. The question does not even have to process through my mind for an answer to come out. I was ready the day I was born. It is not about being ready. It is about playing the game and finishing victorious.

The mayor approaches the microphone, diving right into the History and Victor List. The last Victor, Season Vitale, catches my eye. When she had first won, I considered her my hero. She had taken down her enemy, not afraid of stabbing her in the back to do it. Now, seeing her half-drunk with a baby in one arm, I am disgusted. She is no victor. I will make a far better model for District 2 than she does now.

Our District escort approaches the microphone. Like the rest of District 2, she accepts us to win. She does not go into a long speech regarding her life and is at the bowl for the female tributes. I yank at the ponytail holding my platinum blonde hair in anticipation. In a matter of moments, I will become the new Hunger Games female tribute for District 2.

"Our new tribute is…Felicity Peregrine!" I watch as the younger girl mounts the stage. Her eyes are flooding with tears and her hands are twitching uncontrollably. Felicity Peregrine is quiet famous here in District 2 and not for good reasons. Not only did her brother die in the 76th Games, she also is labeled to be insane. The whole family is a disgrace to District 2.

"I volunteer!" I stroll out of the eighteen area, my face full of pride I'm sure. I walk up the stage and pass the Peregrine girl. I hear her running frantically back down the stairs as I reach my position on the stage.

"Well, congratulations. What is your name?" the escort asks, unfazed by everything. She expected volunteers by now.

"I'm Anna Sinclair," I say with a boastful smile. Everyone knows I won the trails and everyone knows I am the best. That is why I get a huge round of applause.

"Time for the boy tribute!" The escort pulls a name out the boys' bowl. "Hadrin Kraigski!" A pudgy, short-haired thirteen year old boy begins to climb up the stage. I impatiently wait for the real boy to step up. He better.

"I volunteer!" The voice rings loud and clear across the crowd. I hear the whispers as everyone watches the famous "prodigy" child walk up the stage. I am not surprised he is some gawky, acne plagued fifteen year old. No one ever gushed over his looks. He joins me on the stage and we both watch as the original boy runs back to his friends.

"What is your name?"

"Ben Valencia," he says somewhat sheepishly. It was either that or he said it in an uncaring way. The boy did seem socially awkward. He accepts his applause, but not with any pride. The boy was not winner.

"Congratulations to our new tributes!" The crowd gives another energetic cheer of support for us. I try to find my father in the crowd, the reason I am so talented. But I find someone else instead. Her eyes lock on mine and she gives me one of her wicked grins. The kind that can even scare Peacekeepers. It is what she does.

Most children love their mothers more than anything. Mine makes me want to scream. So I do.

**District 3: Shiloh McCarthy's POV**

I am blissfully happy that it is only my brother and me. It is horribly selfish thing to think, for I had more people in my life than just him. It is just that something in me thinks it is so right the way we are right now.

Why shouldn't it be just him and me? We have suffered enough and now we have found each other. My parents left us when they blew up in a factory accident. My older sister died in the 73rd Games. Even my best friend, Belinda is gone. She was killed in the Games as well. They left, we didn't. Why should I wish they returned?

Ideas like this plague me at night. That is when my condition is at its worst. That is what my brother likes to call it, my condition. Children at school taunt me for my obsessive crying and screaming or for my constant gleefulness. Miles says they don't understand. But at night, I sometimes think they really do. At night, everything is worse.

"Are you ready for this year?" Miles mutters to me. We are walking hand in hand to the Reaping, as usual. This is Miles last year to be reaped. I think that scares him, having me be all alone for the next four years after. It frightens me a bit too.

"Of course," I chirp happily. I don't know why, but Reaping day also fills me with a strange joy. After it is all over, it is just me and Miles again. That is the way I like it.

"Just another year to watch two kids get slaughtered by Careers," he mumbles. I know he doesn't mean for me to hear it, but I do. A sudden wave of depression rushes over me. I try to fight it, but it tumbles over me like a tidal wave. The tears come with it.

"Why would you say that?" I scream through tears. I see his face turn to worry. He hates when he does this to me. But it is his fault. Everything is always his fault.

I run before he can comfort me. This is the second year this has happened. It happened at the 76th as well. Miles can get carried away with what he says. He forgets I have the feeling I have sometimes.

I run into my section before he can catch up to me. The kids automatically back away when they see I am in a mood. They hate me, everyone hates me. It makes me sick.

The mayor begins his long speech, but I ignore it entirely. I ignore the Victor list and our escort introducing herself. I block it all out. I don't want to know who will be killed this year. But I hear it anyway.

The name is so familiar, it makes me feel faint. I am surprised when a sudden anger comes over me. I want to scream louder than I ever have. Why did they have to call my name?

**Miles McCarthy's POV**

No. this could not be happening. This has to be some sick dream that I can pinch myself out of. I desperately try to do so. All I get is a throbbing pain on my arm and bloody slits as well. It is actually happening.

How can the world be so cruel to just one person? And how can that one person be me? Haven't I suffered enough? Not only did I watch one of my best friends go in, I also watched a sister. Now, another is following the pattern I have set. The world hates me and wants me loved ones ot die.

I watch as my baby sister Shiloh steps up on to the stage. She looks so vulnerable, her face stained with tears. I can see the conflicted pain in her eyes as the audience applauds her. Not one person steps up to volunteer. I want to scream for someone to do something. No one will, these people only really care about themselves. That is how the Games work.

I only see her, even as our escort is announcing a new name. She will not last a day in that cruel arena. They will rip her to shreds. I love her, but she can't do this. Shiloh is too young. The Careers won't even think of that as the slit her to pieces. My sister.

"Any volunteers?" That cruel question has haunted me every time. I know I couldn't when Transdetta was reaped and I couldn't when Belinda was. All because I had to car for…

"I volunteer!" It is more of a desperate plea than an announcement. I take no pride in going into slaughter children. I take pride in the fact that I have outsmarted the odds this time.

I will save my baby sister.

"My name is Miles McCarthy and I volunteer for the Hunger Games." This time will be different. This time, I will save the one person I love.

**District 4: Kantix Kosmelt's POV**

Those who think the beaches of District 4 are beautiful are wrong. The shores have little sand, only rocks that cause severe discomfort to people's feet. The water itself is full of large fishing vessels or crabbing boats. District 4 is not a perfect landscape. However, the beach does have one hidden the treasure and that treasure is seashells.

My parents have been running a trinket shop in District 4 since I was born. People in District 4 are suckers for little gifts for loved ones. Maybe it is because most can afford it. Our District is not the richest per say, but more people here have money to spend. I am in charge of collecting the shells for my family's shop.

People would not guess I spend so much time collecting little kick-knacks. I am known for my love of training and goal of winning the Games. I more infamously know for my thick sarcasm. The reason I spend all this time doing pointless collecting is that everyone needs an escaping from work and also…

"Kantix!" There is reason number two. I turn with a smile to greet my best friend, Kalela. She is the person who turned me on to collecting. I met her on this very beach when I was seven and had just started training. She didn't have to train, but she listened to me going on and on about how hard it is. She also knows how much I love it. Kalela taught me to escape from training by finding peace with the beach.

I give her hug and note her nice clothes. "What is the occasion?" I ask, pretending to not know what day is today.

"I wonder," she says with a smile. She is the only one who can joke along with me. Others like to laugh and listen, but they only do that. Her sense of humor is one of the things I like about her.

"I thought we were meeting here fifteen minute ago," I say. I don't care that she is late. I just care that she is here. Still, Kalela's stories tend to be interesting due to her habit to over exaggerate everything.

"I ran into Camille Booth and her new boyfriend," Kalela says with an eye roll. To add to her point, she kicks the gravely sand at her feet.

"Yes, isn't she a dear," I say sarcastically. If I am most known for sarcasm, Camille is most known for bitchiness. It has been said that she can make anyone cry. I have seen her victims, but I haven't been one of them. However, I happen to know she refers to me as that boy with the messed up hand. Not the most insulting thing she can come up with, but I am pretty sensitive about my hand.

"I can't believe she has a new boyfriend already. It must be a record for her," Kalela say with a laugh.

"No, I think it is a record for how long she kept the last one. A whole two and half days!" Kalela is laughing even harder now. I love hearing her laugh, so musical and gentle.

"I kind of hope she gets chosen. Then we can collect seashells with peace and not have to watch her and her new boyfriend's boat go by," she jokes. I don't laugh at this one though. "What's wrong?" she asks when she sees I have become sober in mood.

I immediately snap out of the mood to answer. "Uh, I was just thinking it wouldn't really be the same without her doing that, you know?" I hate lying to Kalela and horrified over how easy it was. But I have to lie. It would break her heart know I am volunteering for the Games this year.

I hope she isn't too angry when she finds out. But I have to go, I have to win. When she visits me before I go, I hope we can just talk and not argue or apologize. Love means never having to say you're sorry, right?

**Camille Booth's POV**

I step around the puddle of mud before my new black kitten heels get muddy. As I do, I not my own reflection in a store window and turn to me group of followers. "Rate me."

The five girls in my group, all blonde and not as pretty as me, look at each other in confusion. There is a price to pay for picking girls stupider than you. One of my followers, bright eyed Braze, steps forward. "We are not entirely sure what you mean," she says sheepishly, cowering back as soon as she finishes.

I give a dramatic sigh before explaining. "I mean rate my outfit on a scale of one through ten, ten being the best." The girls bobble their heads in sync when I finish.

"Ten," they all says in unison, too scared to go lower. However, the score is completely true. My red dress, black jacket, and pearl necklaces compliment my figure nicely. My light blonde hair, far nicer than those of my followers, is perfectly curled. I believe Reaping day to be a holiday. It is a day to look even more gorgeous as usual.

"Let's go," I snap to them. They all start walking a few steps behind me like they should. I like this group. Maybe they will last another day. As we walk, I decide I should strike up another conversation, about me of course. "It was really hard breaking up with Crason," I admit.

The girls all give shouts of sympathy and good natured "you deserve better!" sayings. I eat them up "Thank you. You don't know how much that means to me. You should have seen his face." Actually his face was quiet comical, being so tearful. Breaking up with him was funniest break-up in a long while.

We reach the square as the last of the kids were filing into their spots. The six of us head into the seventeen area. The crowd parts as we do. That is the amazing thing about growing up as one of the richest girls in District 4. Everyone loves, wants, and fears you.

At one point or another, my new boyfriend comes to stand next to me. He should be good for a few boat rides, free gifts, and more. He won't last though. He is not as cute as Crason and not as smart. I don't even remember his name.

Our mayor is at the microphone and delivering his long drawl about the History of Panem and our victors. That always takes awhile. Finally, our ditzy escort is delivering a speech of her own regarding her Capitol life. Finally, she is at the bowl.

I never want to be reaped, but I don't have to be scared of it. This is the second to last year for me and the odds are in my favor, so I don't have to worry. It is not like I couldn't fight it out with all the weak tributes the weaker Districts throw in and seduce the Career boys. I just don't feel like going through the trouble.

"Camille Booth!"

A chorus of gasps envelope me. My groupies are staring at me in horror and the rest of the crowd is murmur things to one another. So much of for not having to worry.

I don't stay where I am. Instead, I storm up on to the stage and go straight to the District escort. "There must be some mistake," I hiss so that no one would hear.

The District escort gives tiny laugh, but I see she is as confused as everyone else. "Is Camille Booth not your name?" she jokes loud enough for everyone to hear. I wrinkle my nose in disgust at her and stomp my foot.

"You must understand, I am not going into the arena!" It is an immature whine, I know, but I am not taking this lying down. I will fight anyone on this.

The District escort takes this as a good way to ask for volunteers. "Does anyone want to volunteer to replace Ms. Booth?" Only now is the crowd dead silent. Not one person raises their hand for me.

"You bitches," I sneer at my group of followers. They only look at the ground, their faces flushing from embarrassment. I can't not believe this.

"Okay, let's get on to our boys," the lady says, desperate to move away from me. She reaches her hand into the bowl and pulls out a slip. "Hadwell Leeson!"

A short, twelve year old boy emerges and I feel my sanity snap. Not only do I have to go through all the trouble of winning the Games, but I have to do it with the help of him. As I said before, this is unbelievable!

"I volunteer!" The boy from twelve isn't even at the stage yet when a boy from the seventeen roped section steps out. I vaguely recognize the boy. He is from the family that own that lame trinket shop. He also is the boy with the missing index finger. Wonderful, I am going into the Games with a cripple.

Why is this happening to me? I thought you really could get everything you want.

…

**I hope I did your characters justice. If there are any problems, tell me. I decided not to give away all of back stories for the characters. This time around, I do more flashbacks and give pieces of information here and there.**

**Reviews are loved. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	4. Reapings 5, 6, 7, and 8

**Here are Districts 5, 6, 7, and 8 Reapings. I like writing these Reapings since not much is known about these Districts so I try to get more creative. I hope you like these characters.**

…

**District 5 Katarina "Kat" Peters's POV**

I stare down at the innocence of Caroline's face, a face only a baby can have. Babies have the privileged of not knowing the world's true colors. It is like their whole world is in a perfect black and white. Over time, yellows will pop up fro happiness and reds for despair. For now, I wish to shield her from the colors.

I like to think of Caroline as a rare exception. She is something beautiful that pops up out of the most horrible situation. Things like that almost never happen. She is above the usual. I am so proud to call her my daughter, even if she was a result of that night…

I can't bear to think of that night anymore. Caroline's only flaw to me is that she is a constant reminder of what had happened. No matter how hard I try, I can't wash that away with all the love I feel for her.

I sigh one last time over how perfect she looks in her sleeping stage and leave her small nursery. Before I do, I take a peek at my baby sister, Harmony. I love her in a different way, as what she is, a sister. I won't, couldn't, ever admit to my mother that I love Caroline more than Harmony, though I know she feels the same in opposite.

I leave to my own room to dress for the Reaping. I don't bother with nice clothes anymore. I couldn't get them anyway, with all the money going towards the babies. I put on my everyday blue dress with a belt and my favorite, but tarnished necklace.

I look in the mirror to brush my hair. Unlike most girls, I don't hate or love my appearance. My black hair is normal and strait. My eyes look sleep deprived, but still keep their almost black appeal. My tiny frame still looks frail, but what do you expect from District 5? The only thing I wish I could chance is the scar across my throat.

I shuffle down the stairs and into the barely lit kitchen. District 5 looks gloomy and gray, a usual weather pattern here. Yet, this morning, it looks especially grim. My mother is at the sink, washing a few half-rotten fruit. I assume my younger brother, Lane, is already gone.

"Good morning, Katarina," my mother says promptly, not turning around. I love the way she can always tell who is there even when she isn't looking. It astounded me when I was younger. Now, it is only a tiny, bright part of my day. It does not do enough to affect my usual mood, though or hers for that matter.

I grab one of the apples from her hand and take a bight. I still feel a sting as I swallow. I don't know if it is just my imagination or reality. I can't ask my mother if it is normal. She gives me a tiny smile before shooing me out of the way. "You need to get to the Reaping. I told you I would take care of Caroline."

I nod at my mother and start out the door. I walk down the steps with my apple in hand, glancing back only once. I shouldn't have, though. I trip on one of the many loose stones on the pathway. I fall on to the stone hard, enough to make me want to scream. If only I could make a sound come out. It is never easy having words to say and having no voice to say them.

**Dexter Hasselback's POV**

I don't want to stand in this sea of animals, but I have no other choice. They think I can't hear their snickering or their name calling. Stupidity is as stupidity does. These people know nothing. But I still don't understand why their insults hurt so much.

I wish I could kill them all.

I immediately shake the thought out of my head. That side of me has not been seen by anyone, but me. Even I haven't seen that side in awhile. I don't know why it always shows itself on Reaping Day, of all days.

I have never feared Reaping Day like most children do. It was never a problem for me. I had much larger things to fear or at least I thought I did. When I think about it clearly now, Reaping Day should be more terrifying. Yet, I still do not fear it.

The bullying is just so real. The Reaping is only a possibility and it is one all of the children face. Bullying was only me or at least in my grade. It was and always will be the red hair. It is the hair of evil. I despise it more than anything.

Even now, it causes my complications. They bullies have matured slightly since we were all twelve and thirteen, but the hair still get mocked. I hear the snide comments from behind me. I don't want to, but I do.

The comments come to a halt when the mayor steps up to the microphone. He rushes and mumbles his way through the History and Victor List. We don't have many victors, but we do have the most recent one, Knox Overstreet. He looks high or drunk. Either way, it is easy to tell his life is a living hell.

The escort is a the microphone when I hear the whisper in my ear. "I hope it is you, ginger." I whip around quickly to find the person responsible. A group of boys stand behind me, all much larger than me. Darrel Nighlen in the obvious culprit though.

"C-c-c-cut it out," I hiss at them, but they only laugh menacingly at my stutter. It is their fault I have it. It will always be their fault.

"Katarina Peters!" I didn't even notice the announcer until he called the name. I glance at the girl chosen. She is fairly pretty, but doesn't look like one who will last long. I feel sorry for her. She looks so scared.

I hear the boys behind me laughing more as our escort reaches the boys bowl. The most disturbing part is that they would actually be delighted if I was chosen. "And your male tribute is…"

"It is going to be you," Darren whispers again while the escort is drawing the name. His gang of boys laugh again, even more viciously. I furrow my brown again and get up the nerve to retaliate.

"It w-w-will n-n-not…"

"Dexter Hasselback."

And just like that, all my nightmares come true. The slim possibilities become the true facts and the once most terrifying thing turns microscopic in comparison. I can only think of one positive. At least in this arena, killing is an option.

**District 6 Finn Darrenhall's POV**

I usually wake up to the sobs of my mother, but my house is ghostly quiet this morning. I climb out of bed cautiously, unsure whether or not I should be alarmed. My mother always faces her worst fits of depression in the morning. My father still seems to be haunting her from the grave

I don't waste time by fixing my self up. My brown hair is short and does not need much grooming anyhow. I climb into my Reaping attire and make for the kitchen. As I thought, the kitchen was abandon. I wouldn't have noticed the small scrap of yellowing paper if I hadn't knocked it over on my way to the pantry.

I pick it up to see that it is from my mother. "I left early for the Reaping. I think you can manage to get yourself there in one piece." I smile at the paper before tossing it into the trash. My mother may look physically scared and her mind might wander in and out of deep sadness, but her curt tone and writing still remains the same. I love these glimpses of my mother's old self.

I grab a small piece of bread from the pantry, seeing as we are almost out. The pantry's dark shadow looming over the bread has a real depressing feel to it. It would be the perfect subject for a painting. I want to leave some for after the Reaping. I take a bite and slam the door closed. I grab my fraying, brown coat and walk out the door. I don't bother locking it. My house has nothing worth stealing.

I don't expect anyone to be waiting for me and no one is. I never even had friends before my father's death. People find me…for lack of a better word, hostile. That is quality is one of the many things my father taught me. Even as he is rotting away in his grave, I still hear his voice in my head. "People are a waster of your time, Finn. And if someone won't leave you be, hit with words not fists."

Despite my father's "words of wisdom", I did get into a lot of fists fights with the boys in my class. That is another reason I don't have any friends. I feel like my violence has mellowed with age, but underneath my quiet exterior is still a boy who can snap with more coldness than any boy can. Who needs fists with a quality like that?

I continue on my way to the Reaping in a silence I have learned to love. It might be all I ever love any how. This is my last Reaping for the rest of my life. Now if only I could tell where I am going from there.

**Cetera Jellon's POV**

I walk my usually two paces behind Jonnie as we make our way into the already packed District square. Kaya is next to me, chatting on about whom she is betting on to be reaped this year. I n all honesty, it could be anyone really. District 6 does not have a reputation for being rich or for having volunteers.

Normally, I would be talking with Kaya, arguing her points or adding some of my own. However, I am always nervous when Reaping Day comes around. With my friends and family I am usually very animated, but today I go back to being quiet and unattached from what is going on.

"Come on," Jonnie calls from in front of us. "We are going to be late." Kaya and I speed up slightly, but Jonnie still keeps ahead of us. That is the problem with having fast walking friends. Kaya continues her Reaping talk up until with reach the District square.

Kaya waves good-bye to us and heads to the seventeen year old spot. Jonnie and I squeeze past the crowd to get to the rest of the sixteen year olds. We finally make it in and find one of our other friends, Sparl, waiting.

"It is about time," he yells over the rest of the group. "I got here a good two seconds ago." Jonnie laughs a little at Sparl's lame joke, but I keep quiet. I have a tendency of not smiling or laughing at little jokes, even with my friends. I am always afraid no one else will laugh with me.

"Whatever," Jonnie replies. "How about after the Reaping, we all go over to my house for an after Reaping celebration?"

Sparl nods enthusiastically, but I shake my head. "My parents will want me home. You know how worried they get," I mumble. I can see Jonnie had trouble hearing me, but she did notice the head shake.

"Come one, you have to come!" she exclaims in an overdramatic manner. Sparl nods along with her, but I still shake my head.

"I really can't," I say. "I'm sorry." Jonnie and Sparl seem to understand, but both still look disappointed. I hang my head down slightly. I hate disappointing people and I hate it more that I disappointed my friends.

The mayors getting up on the stage to start the Reaping saves me from hearing more after party talk. He gives the basic History and Lists of Victors before he hands it over to our District escort. Gulf has freshly died sea green hair in its usual beehive style.

She doesn't give a long speech over why she is proud to be here. It is pretty obvious she is not proud to be here. Gulf quickly rambles off a generic few sentences and goes straight to the female bowl. "Cetera Jellon!"

I feel my two friends turn to statues next to me, but I just start walking absent-mindedly to the stage. I don't think what just happened has entirely processed in my mind. All I know is my face in red and I am walking somewhere.

The crowd gives me a little token of applause, but they hardly care about the tributes. They expect us to be dead in the bloodbath. I don't care for their applause either. I only want to spot my family.

Gulf is at the boys bowl, fishing out a name. She finds a slip and smiles a false smile as she reads it. "Finn Darrenhall!"

I don't recognize the name, but I see a boy with short, light brown hair and a tall frame. He looks to be around eighteen, but I didn't notice what area he came from. He walks up the stage, his face wiped of emotion. He looks almost as terrifying as a Career, but not quite.

The mayor is back to the read the Treaty of Treason, but I miss it entirely. The next thing I know, I am shaking hands with the Finn boy. When I look into his eyes, they are as cold as ice. I don't think I will make an ally out of him. I just don't want to be all alone.

**District 7 Sunday Lancast's POV**

I hurl the hairbrush at the mirror, watching as the glass shatters to a million pieces along with my own wretched reflection. The glass sprays out on to the floor and counter, though none touch my bare feet. A few shards still cling to the mirror frame, those that feel they had a fighting chance. Maybe that is my case a well. Maybe a few pieces of my mind still hold fighting innocence.

None that I can find, though.

I back away from the glass, but not out of fear one piece will cut me. I don't want to see the reflection I destroyed along with the mirror. The girl in the mirror had looked so much like Ever, the same petite frame, brown eyes, and tan skin. The only difference is the girl has straight black hair, not curly brown.

I hate that girl. She is so scared and lonely. She doesn't even have the guts to admit. I want to feel better than that. I don't want to be that girl who sits alone in a pitch black room and cries to her own death. I wish to be better than that. I only know one way to do so.

I walk out of the bathroom and away from the glass. I grab the pair of shoes I left outside the bathroom and slip them on. I make my way down to the kitchen to find only my mother there. I can see the obvious tear stains on her cheeks. She is mourning Ever. This was the day she was sent to her death.

I pick up an orange from the counter and it is only then that she takes notice of me. She tends to forget my existence now. I want to forget hers as well, but her constant sobbing reminds me she is still here. She is still reminding us all of Ever.

I want my sister back. I don't want to mourn her. But by the look my mother is giving me, I will be subject to mourning. "I heard the mirror break."

"So," I mutter coldly under my breath. I take the largest knife I can find and slice into the orange. My mother takes note of this and lets out one of her disappointed sighs. That is the only thing she seems to be able to give me now.

"This can't keep happening. That is the twelfth mirror we have had to replace in that room alone. I know you want to bring your sister…" My mother does not trail off or start crying. I cut her off before she can do either.

"I _know _I can't bring my sister back. But I don't want to keep crying over her. I want to do something about it! Why don't you understand?" I scream louder than I mean to. I have spent the last year keeping my feeling locked from her. I think today they have decided to come out.

"Sunny, you are not suggesting…" I do not let her continue this time either.

"It is Sunday. Sunny is the name of a child. And yes, I am suggesting just that. I won't be able to get your help anyway. Not that I would want it!" I take the rest of my food and storm out the front door. I slam it on the way out. I feel my mother watching me from the window, but I do not turn around. She can even come after me for all I care. It doesn't mean she will ever understand. Only Teylor understands now.

Remember how I said there is only one way to get rid of the girl in the mirror? Want to know that one way?

I have to volunteer. District 2 and every other tribute will help me on the way, by dying of course.

**Steam Trace's POV**

I prefer to think of myself as an optimist, not a boy on drugs. Well, unless life can give someone a high, which is quite possible. I don't care if people give me funny looks when I get excited over a school assignment or getting picked last for football. Life is too short to care for people like that. I only really need one person to care about me.

I am walking hand and hand with her right now.

I was always one for believing in true love, not soul mates, just true love. From the moment I saw her in the lumber fields, I knew Jasper was my one and only. I am also a very determined character. Luckily, Jasper seems to like that about me. Why else would she give a boy like me the time of day?

Now, with her hand in mine, everything feels so right. I touch the ring on her finger, a bit too small, but one that will have to do for now. Once we are married and have money, I will buy her one bigger than any in our District.

"Are you excited for today?" I ask, breaking the silence between us. Jasper gives me an empty stare before responding.

"What do you mean excited? It is Reaping day," Jasper answers, her eyebrows furrowing. Jasper was not exactly like me when it comes to seeing the glass half full rather than half empty. She has a certain enthusiasm about her, but nothing to my extent.

"Exactly. We get a whole day to ourselves when it is over. I had something special planned," I say with a knowing smile. I don't get one from Jasper though. She lets out a lengthy sigh and picks up our pace.

"Today is also the day we get to see two more kids go to their death," she says. "I hardly think that is worth celebrating. Aren't you at all worried one of us will get called?"

"Neither of us have many slips in the bowl, we will be fine. Anyway, District 7 has had some fighters in the past years," I tell her, trying to keep the mood pleasant. Jasper seems to have a different plan.

"There is always a chance, Steam. You need to think about these things sometimes." I can see I have upset her in some way. She isn't very fond of Reaping days. Instead of responding, I back off and allow us to walk in silence the rest of the way.

We reach the already packed square and say our good-byes. I give her a tiny kiss before sending her off with the rest of the seventeen year olds. I watch her go before making my way over to the eighteen area. My friends, Graham and Miles, are already waiting.

"I would first like to say congratulations to us, we have survived the Reapings!" Miles exclaims, throwing his arms around Graham and me.

"Not yet," Graham reminds him, batting Miles's arm away. "We still have this one to worry about."

"Who cares? To the Reaping Day survivors!" Miles yells loud enough for all our other classmates to here. A loud chorus of cheering follows and Miles takes out a flask. "Who want some?"

"Put that away," Graham says with a groan. "I have already told you, there is still a chance." Miles ignores Graham completely and takes a long drink from the flask.

"Fine, don't think of it as a Reaping cheer. Think of it as drinking to our friends last day in bachelor hood!" Miles yells loudly. I laugh along with Miles, but Graham still shakes his head at us. I do wave the flask away when Miles offers it, but I do cheer along with the rest of the eighteen year olds. We probably all have survived the Reapings.

The celebrating comes to a halt when the mayor approaches the microphone. He clears his throat before diving into the usual History and Victor List. Almost everyone knows the History by heart and some of the kids in our group mime it along with the mayor. Some of the bolder ones even make a few wise cracks. The mayor knows it is all in good fun though. The Peacekeepers are not as thrilled.

Our District escort takes over the microphone. I still never remember her name, even though she stresses it every year. I'm sure half the people in the District wouldn't know either. She is a bit more excited this year though. We have made it pretty far in the past two years. She says something about bringing home a new victor and then she is at the bowl.

"Our female tribute is…Pepper Monley!" A rather short, muscular girl comes from the fourteen roped section. She looks positively terrified as she climbs the steps. She takes her spot, looking about ready to cry. "Any volunteers?"

"I volunteer!" The voice was hard and forceful. A small girl from the fifteens mounts the stage. I recognize her immediately like everyone else. It is Sunday Lancast. I have pretty good idea of why she is doing this as well.

The original girl runs the down the steps quickly as Sunday takes her place. She does not wait fro the escort to ask her name. "I'm Sunday Lancast." The crowd does not even give the escort a chance to ask for the applause. They do it anyway. They all expect she is going in to avenge her sister's death.

The crowd finally quiets down so that the escort can call out the boy's name. The eighteen year old girls are already whispering and celebrating. Us boys are holding are breaths. "Our male tribute is…Steam Trace!"

I know what most people do when they are reaped. They walk up in a robotic fashion and pray someone will replace them. As I said though, I am an optimist. I walk up in large strides, a smirk on my face. I take my place next to Sunday. Inside, I am begging for a volunteer. Outside, I am flashing the cameras my best lopsided smile.

She asks for volunteers. No one steps forward.

For the first time in my life, I can't find a positive. I have a one in twenty three chance of coming out alive, maybe a little more. If I don't come out, I won't ever marry Jasper. We won't ever have kids. Nothing good can ever happen for me.

I keep a calm face. The only sign of frustration I show is when I run a trembling hand through my curly brown hair. Before the Peacekeepers march us off, I take the set of rings I had in my pocket. I chuck them into the crowd.

**District 8 Ian Williams's POV**

"Just look at the back of your hands, Ian! Every time you come home it is the same thing, dried blood." My mother's voice was not a soothing sound to here, especially when she was lecturing. I know my mother has a problem with my fighting just like she knows I have a problem with her problem. It is an endless cycle that will not be solved with a few hateful words.

"Mom, you can't keep treating me like a child. When I move out next month…" At the mere mention of my plans to depart, my mother scrubs at my hands harder. The thought of me moving out was a touchy subject for my mother. No mother wants her child leaving.

"Just get ready for the Reaping," she mutters, dropping the sponge into the pink tinted water in defeat. I oblige happily, glad to be avoiding my mother's looks used to make me feel guilty. I wish she would understand that I am eighteen now. I don't think she will until my moving out actually happens.

I walk down the hallway to my bedroom to do as my mother asks. It is best not to get on her bad side today. I see she has already laid out an outfit for me to wear. A pair of basic dress pants and a dress shirt, nothing I couldn't wear. Well, it is a little dressy for me, but my mother is always happy to see me looking nice. To my mother, I am a good-looking boy. She ignores the few missing teeth and practically permanent ring of black around my eye. She just likes the curly brown hair and blue eyes.

I walk back out of my room and into the kitchen. My mother is no longer there. Instead, my only two friends, Ivy and Racine, are in her place. I do associate with other people. That is, if picking fights with said people counts.

"You ready?" Ivy asks in a lazy tone. She inspects the apples in the bowl on the table. They are all bruised and deformed, a symbol for District 8. Racine nods along with her while shoving his hands in his pocket. He isn't one for talk which is a trait I like about him.

"Let's just go," I mumble. I grab one of the apples from the bowl, ignoring the countless bruises. Food is food and we don't get much here. I follow Ivy and Racine out my own door and on to the street. Groups of people are already heading towards the square, their faces all solemn. Reaping Day isn't a holiday in District 8 like in some places.

I give a few dirty looks to some of the classmates who pass by, but we don't interact past waves or death stares. We aren't the most popular group. I just want to get this over with. My last Reaping is a symbol to me. I feel like once it is over, I will finally be free.

**Kamira Lyre's POV**

I pull my hair into a ponytail yet again, but pull it out immediately afterwards. The nerves are really getting to me. I keep pulling at my frizzing, brown hair until my friend, Kanina slaps my hand back.

"Calm down," she says in a soft voice. We are standing towards the front of the sixteens section. The Reaping is already late to start. I note that the twelves are restless as well. I remember being at that age, afraid and nervous like I am now.

"I wish it will just start already," I whisper. I don't want everyone else around me to think I am a nervous wreck. The last thing I want to do is lose their respect. I know that is a worst case scenario, but I find worrying to be one of my top hobbies.

"Don't we all," Kanina says with an exasperated sigh. She isn't a very patient person either. Still, she knows how to keep calm about it. "You don't need to be worried anyway. You don't have your name in as many times as I do."

"How do you know," I snap. I immediately regret what I just said. It is very unlike me to be that straightforward and rude. I was brought up better than that. "I apologize. I did not mean to be that rude."

"You talk like my mother, Kamira," Kanina says with a light smile. Kanina is always trying to get me to act bolder and sixteen like. It is a hopeless though. My parents and grandmother taught me to always be respectful to everyone. Every time I try to break away, I go right back to where I started. The only time I will ever break away is when I am leading people.

I am about to respond when the mayor begins the long and boring History. Our victor list does not take near as long. District 8 is not known for taking home the trophy year after year like other District. Soon enough, our District announcer is at the microphone.

"It is great to be here, _again_." The way he says again show how annoyed he really is to be back here yet again. Jackie is a classic District escort who thinks they deserve a better District. We aren't exactly thrilled over having him for an announcer either.

He does not say another word and makes his way over to the females' bowl. He grabs a slip as quickly as possible. "The female tribute is…Kamira Lyre!"

I wish I could answer the question in my head differently. Why does that name sound so familiar? It is my name. The answer will never change and I know I have to face the facts. I stumble out of my roped area and on to the stage in a somewhat delirious manner.

Jackie does not even bother to ask for volunteers because no one ever bothers to do so here. He just makes his way to the next bowl while the audience is giving me the smallest amount of applause they can. It is not that they don't care. They just want to get this over with too.

"The male tribute is…Ian Williams!" A chubby, but cute looking boy comes to the stage from the eighteens. He has a look of bewilderment on his face, but he shows no signs of a readiness to cry. He accepts his applause and stands on the stage, still looking slightly confused.

The mayor finishes the Treaty of Treason and now waits on us to shake hands. I turn to Ian with my hand out, but al he does is stare at it. Finally, he gives it a limp shake. Hopeless, I am utterly hopeless. By the looks of it, Ian is too.

…

**There you go. I really liked writing Dexter's POV. I got to get out my IT book by Stephen King so I could get the stutter right. Oh course, I loved everyone else too. Sorry if some seem underdeveloped. It is just that some of the characters' personality traits can only be introduced in a certain way, ways I don't have with just a Reaping.**

**Districts 9, 10, 11, and 12 will be next. I will do District 14 as a stand alone with another peek at the McNeelys. I hope I can get those out soon. Reviews are loved. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	5. Reapings 9, 10, 11, and 12

**Here is another set of Reapings! It is the last set of large Reapings and then District 14. I hope you enjoy!**

…

**District 9 Almond Willow's POV**

Dark brown hair looking half way decent? Check. Big nose still on my face? Check. Reaping outfit acceptable? Check. No emotion prevailing? Check.

Reaping Day is pretty much the holiday of unmasked emotions. Everyone is crying or rejoicing depending on what happened. It was a day where fear spreads like fire, tears crash like waterfalls, and happiness dries and floods all at once. It is like one all you can eat buffet of people in pieces. I am proud to say I don't support this day. I am Almond Willows and the only thing you will ever see on my face is serious face and a large nose.

Almond Willows is driven. That is something I can say about myself. Yet, sometimes I wonder if I am driven or my parents are driven for me. I like to think I think for myself. I like to think I don't care for anything. I like to think I am not sensitive and weak. Who could ever tell what is true and what is faux if you can mask your emotion so well? I want to think I do that well. Still, people have their cracks. I just haven't found mine yet.

I wipe a bit of grim off the mirror before heading downstairs. I smell eggs on the stove and I feel my lips twitching up into a grin. I walk into the kitchen to see my father serving eggs to my little sister Elliana. My brother Oak is impatiently tapping his fork against his plate, awaiting his food. My older brother Ashur is nowhere to be found.

My mother is the first to notice my arrival. "Almond, good morning and happy Reaping Day," she says with her little half smile. It always seems so forced and unnatural, but I have learned to love it over time. My father waves at me while piling eggs on my brother's plate.

"Would you like breakfast?" my father asks. I notice the pan is empty and I know we don't have many eggs left. However, my stomach does not quite understand our financial situation. I hesitate for a moment, staring at the empty pan, before shaking my head.

"Elli will be here any minute anyway. I'm sure we can find something on the way," I reassure him. He nods along, but I see he would prefer I eat something. These little gestures always remind me they do care at heart, even if they seem cold on the outside.

I walk behind Oak to say good-bye. Today is officially his first Reaping. I see by the way he is twisting at his finger, he more nervous than he will let on. He doesn't turn around to say good-bye, but wrap my arms around his tiny shoulders and whisper, "Good luck, Oak." He automatically shrugs away from my touch like most twelve year olds will do. I don't pay it any mind.

"Almond Willows, I don't have all day!" The voice echoes through my tiny house even though Elli is outside. I shake my head with my twitching smile and grab my coat. It is chilly is District 9 around Reaping Day. I wave to my parents before heading out the door.

"Good luck darling!" my mother calls out to me. I don't turn around, but I nod for her sake. My parents have always wanted me to excel at everything, but the Hunger Games were not part of everything. I know they would be scared for their lives if I was in that arena.

But I'm Almond Willows, I can do anything. Right?

**Todd Halder's POV**

"People are so easy on Reaping Day," Nash says with a laugh as he finishes counting our morning earnings. When he finishes, he pushes it into his back pocket. I too am pleased with this morning income. People are indeed easy to con on Reaping Day. All the hype just gets to people. I guess they believe buying useless items will put them at ease. Well, we make them assume that.

"Well, little brother, people just love a good antler polisher," I say with a smirk. He laughs at my comment. "Who knows, maybe one out of the five people we sold them to do have dirty antlers lying around waiting to be polished. Nash laughs harder at this.

"After the Reaping, how about a friendly duel?" Nash asks. He already knows the answer, but my twin is always very polite. He has to be to be able to convince sour hunters to be little knick-knacks for their unforgiving wives.

"You know it," I reply. "Are you going to invite Keely?" Keely, my brother's girlfriend disapproves of our fighting, especially since we have real swords. However, I always have to ask. What kind of brother would I be if I didn't take a few jabs at my twin?

Nash scowls at me for my comment. "It is just as funny the one hundredth time you've said it," he mutters under his breath. "Just so you know the answer is still no. I'm sure Emelia would like to come though."

It is common knowledge Emelia has a crush on me ever since I flirted her into buying a glass paper weight at the store. She is Keely's friend so we see her more often then our other classmates. However, I do not consider her a close friend.

So, I just shake my head at my brother's comeback. "You know Emelia, she is probably gossiping about you with Keely as we speak." Nash face turns cold again, but I know he isn't too offended. He is just self-conscious. Ever since he heard from a boy at school that Emelia and Keely were telling people about one of their dates, he hates the idea of Emelia and Keely in the same room.

Nash stays a bit too quiet for my tasted the rest of the walk over to the square. I try to pull him back into a conversation by recalling funny memories of our cons, but he brushes them off. I am afraid I have gone too far, but I don't have time to ask him when the crowd starts getting thicker and the voices louder.

We push and shove our way into the fifteen roped area. Almost all of our class is already there. I expected we'd be late anyhow. Nash goes to find Keely for a quick talk before the mayor steps up to the microphone, leaving me alone.

I wait in the crowd of girls checking their hair and boys flexing to impress said girls. It is almost painful to watch their weak attempts. I could have already gotten a girl wrapped around my finger with one line. Still, I stay quiet. I don't need a girl hanging around me today.

The mayor is at the microphone just as Nash gets back. The mayor goes into the History and our Victor List. Here in District 9, we try to make things quick and to the point. I think the mayor is embarrassed by the state of his District and does not want the cameras on us for too long. His plans seem to be working when he finishes in a record time.

Our District escort is just like our mayor, embarrassed to be here. I can't say we should be embarrassed of her. Compared to other escorts, Robyn is relatively normal. Still, she hates us so we hate her. She does not bother with introductions and she is right at the girls' ball.

Robyn's nails claw at the ball as she tries to extract a piece of paper. She finally snags one and unfolds it. "Almond Willows!" The name is vaguely familiar though I can't place her. I look other heads to find her. She is a normal looking girl with dark brown hair and normal height and weight. She doesn't look like she will last long.

District 9 gives the required applause before Robyn moves to the boys' ball. Like every year, my breath hitches a bit in fear. Not much scares me, but getting picked is something that shakes me to my core. I hate imagining my brother and mother getting along with out me if I lost.

"Nash Halder!"

I didn't know there was a greater fear than me getting picked. It looks like there is. I watch as Nash pushes past me to walk up to the stage. He tries to keep on his acting face, but I see the cracks easily. He is scared for his life, as am I.

"I volunteer!" I want to take it back. I don't want to take it back. If I really do want to take it back, my feet won't let me. I am already stalking up the steps to the stage, pushing past Nash like he had done to me moments ago. "I volunteer."

**District 10 Raze Tanner's POV**

I feel as if the blood drenching my gloves is a symbol of what is to come. The way I absent-mindedly just wipe it on to my overalls scares me, though I don't know why. Does this show how little amounts of compassion I possess? That is highly improbable. My levels of compassion would never sink low enough to condone the killing of a person and then wiping the blood off like it is just a bit of water.

Why am I sinking as low to volunteer for a game that does condone that?

Is it pride that is steering me in that direction? I never felt that I was one to have strong amount of pride, though I know everyone has some. No, I don't feel it is pride. Am I trying to prove something to someone? I feel that is a more justifiable answer.

The years of living under my brother's shadow have directly caused my personality in my opinion. Why try to be the best when someone is always going to be there to make sure their best is better? And why bother trusting people if almost everyone in this country is like that? I have never found the answers. My personality speaks for itself.

So, I wipe up the blood and call it a day. Not because I am not compassionate or uncaring. I do it because that is my job, to wipe of the blood and move on. You can't care for something that is already dead, though you can try. I kill the animal and I feel remorse, but it is never enough to bring it back to life.

I remove the gloves and overalls to show my Reaping clothes in all their faux glory. A fancy outfit for a not so fancy affair, how befitting. My mother would have had a heart attack if she had seen me bleeding a cow in my Reaping clothes. It would just be another thing to add to her list of reasons she is disappointed in my younger brother and I. I'm sure if Talos did it she would award him for his ability to not get a drop of blood on the outfit.

I walk out of the factory into the hazy daylight of District 10. The air even smells like death here, death of animals and people. So what if we make all the meat for the Capitol. We are hardly refurbished.

I follow the herd of people as they head to the square. I am just one in a crowd, nothing special or perfect. I am no Talos. Still, would Talos do what I am about to do? What would he do it for if he had the guts? But as I have said, I am no Talos Tanner.

I am just one of the norms.

**Lyli Hyerman's POV**

"This is so stupid," I grumble under my breath as me and my friends walk into the seventeen section. The area is already packed with kids sweating fear and just sweating. It is enough to make someone vomit from claustrophobia. I believe someone did last year.

"Every year," Jay says while shaking his head, but he is smiling. I love that he and Trome can put up with me every year. My opinions, if heard by anyone important, could get us all in trouble. I am so grateful for them.

"It wouldn't be a Reaping with out it," Trome says, slinging an arm around me. I do love him as a friend, but I have to shrug off his embrace. I hate it when anyone touches me when I don't tell them they can. It is part of my trusting issues.

"Point taken," Jay says, but he adds a sigh at the end of it. Unlike Trome, Reapings tend to put a damper on Jay's usually care-free attitude. His older sister had been reaped a few years before and didn't even make it past day two. She was stupid enough to start a fire at night.

Trome and I share a sympathetic look, but don't say anything. This is one of the rare times I don't try to voice my opinion. It doesn't matter anyhow. The Reaping is about to start. The microphone is being adjusted and the mayor is stepping up.

"Greetings District 10!" our mayor yells into the microphone. He only receives a muted response from everyone. We aren't people who celebrate sending children to their deaths. Still, our mayor tries to remain optimistic we will get a victor. We came close to the final eight last year.

The mayor keeps his annoyingly peppy attitude up until the very end. He hands the microphone over to our escort, who is much less happy to be in our District. She rattles a quick monologue before going to the first bowl. District 10 holds its breath as the slip is read. "Lyli Hyerman!"

Raging words of hate are the first things to pop in my mind, but my feet are moving anyway. My mouth remains closed and pursed as I reach my spot on stage. I feel my face growing redder as the audience clasp me into reality. I was just chosen as a tribute.

I don't notice anything else, but my own scornful thoughts at every eligible girl here until the escort is reading the next name. "Rex Isngard!"

Before the boy even gets up one step, a voice pronounces itself. "I volunteer." The boy doesn't even wait for the new tribute to emerge. He is back in his area at the speed of light, maybe faster. I don't care for him though. I want to see the boy who thinks he is tough enough to volunteer.

I train my eyes on huge black boy emerging from my area. I remember him slightly from classes. All I remember is how much he got bullied for his color. Great, I have gotten stuck with an emotionally scarred boy.

If only sour words could get me out of this because I have plenty.

**District 11 Tawncy Moriatri's POV**

"Can we move it along please?" I snap a bit cruelly as my sister drags her feat against the dusty road. My sister's head snaps up quickly, a look of alarm on her face. She knows well enough what I am like when I am angry. Not because I let that side out on her, but because she is around when it happens.

"I don't want to go to the Reaping," she mutters under her breath. It is so typical of Tanya to not want to go to the Reaping. She has done this for the last two years. I think it is just nerves. I am the one who usually has to calm her down if she really panics.

I don't believe in the Reapings if that makes sense. I feel they are just a waste of time. There are so many kids in our District; the odds of getting picked are extremely slim. So what if some kids are bought out of the Reaping? That is just a sliver of the child population, if it is that much. There are way too many kids to get freaked out, end of story.

"You are worrying for nothing. You know the odds of us getting picked are slim, even with the tessereas. Don't get yourself worked up for nothing. It is all just hype," I explain, my voice edged with annoyance. I love my littler sister, but her childish worries irate me to no end.

"Hi Tawncy!" I turn to see a girl from school waving to me. I wave back with a light smile which satisfies the girl. She walks off with a smile of her own to catch up with a group of girls also in my grade. I drop my hand and turn back to Tanya, who gives me an astonished look.

"I didn't know you had any friends." It was a bold statement, one I wouldn't let anyone, but Tanya get away with. I am not sensitive about my lack of friends. It is actually quite the opposite. I just hate when people point things out about me like they know me. Some people are very thick headed like that.

"She isn't my friend. I don't even know her name," I tell Tanya, giving a quick glance back to where the girl had been standing. I try my best to recall her name, but nothing comes. I don't picture her as someone important considering her friends wouldn't even wait for her. That is one of the many reasons I keep to myself and stay independent. People aren't to be trusted. A perfect example would be that fact she trusted I liked her when I waved back.

"Then why did you wave to her and look all happy to see her?" Tanya inquires, not grasping the situation well. After years of living under the same roof, you would think she knows my natural flair for acting.

"I lied, no big deal," I say with a shrug and continue walking in the direction of the square. Yes, lying is just that easy to me. However, I prefer to call it acting. I act like I don't care about anything. I act like I am the cruelest person in the country sometimes. I act like I am the most caring. I can act a lot.

I can say one truthful thing about myself: I don't take things lying down.

**Arin Anders's POV**

I kept my arms tightly around my chest as I watch the heard file into their pens. No, that is not a literal statement. Still, every year I think the same. We all look like lost, confused cows of District 10, trying to make sense of it all as we are pushed into areas for each age group.

The thought that I used to find this whole thing somewhat enjoyable sickens me to know end. How could the thought of two kids being forced to their deaths be at all fun? However, I forgive myself slightly. That was when I had Aria. Everything was better when she was here.

Standing amongst my classmates, loneliness is a common feeling. Yes, they understand hardship and loss. I'm sure at least a quarter of their parents have been killed by the Peacekeepers. Yet, I don't feel they understand my pain. Deep down, I know they would, but I don't have the heart to tell anyone, even my best and only friend Epiphany.

The mayor taps at the microphone to silence the crowd even though we were already quiet. District 11 does not tend to be a rowdy crowd. We are so tired and sleep-deprived; talking is a luxury for when we have enough energy. The mayor smiles whole-heartedly at his weak District and speeds through the History and Victor List.

My feeling of resentment shines through as our escort takes the stage. Besides District 10, I blame the Capitol for Aria's premature death. If there was no Capitol, there would be no Games. But that is a fool's dream. I like to think of myself as more sensible than that.

The escort is at the female ball and clawing for a name. The names in there are only a small portion of our District. Families save up their money all year to buy their child's name out of the balls. It was an illegal practice, but the Capitol turns a blind eye on it as long as they get a boy and a girl to compete. My family isn't so fortunate. My name is in that ball a good thirty times.

"Tawncy Moriatri!" A few kids behind me snicker immaturely into their hands at the name. I recognize it vaguely, but names like that will always sound familiar. A small fifteen year old mounts the stage with what seems like a strong sense of purpose. She is cute with long black hair and girlish features, but nothing that will get older tributes looking twice. Despite her innocent appearance, there is something unsettling about her, but I can't pin point it.

The lady does not even bother asking for applause and the Tawncy girl only gets a weak clap that I don't bother joining in for. I just wait patiently for the boys' drawing. I feel Epiphany growing restless beside me. She knows how many times my name is in there just like I know her name wasn't in the ball at all.

"And your male tribute is…Arin Anders!" Utterly brilliant, it is just so utterly brilliant. I don't know how they do it, but somehow the Capitol has screwed me over even more so. It is really just brilliant. I walk up the stage with a disbelieving grin. I think I am in denial.

The audience gives me a bit more applause than Tawncy. It may be that I am bigger than her and seem to stand more of a chance. Either way, I ignore the noise completely. Inside, the denial is fading a full blown freak out commences.

_Come on Arin, you are stronger than that._

I must be really crazy. I would recognize that voice anywhere. It is the voice of Aria.

**District 12 Azrael Lupin's POV**

Kill or be killed.

Be killed or kill.

Live or die.

Words of wisdom. Yes, those are my words of wisdom. Isn't that what it all boils down to in the simplest form of the meaning of life? It is kill or be killed. Live free or die. I, the Angel of Death, would think so.

Who needs a family? Who needs a home? Who _needs_ anything? You just need your smarts and a healthy level of sanity.

Or insanity, whatever works.

I have no family. They died in an _unfortunate_ fire. Of course, it was only unfortunate for them. I don't have a home. No worries, I like to call my strategy of living, improvising. I really don't have anything. What would I possibly need? I know everything I need to know. I have lived off of a special meat my whole life.

But the special meat is hard to come by most of the time. I walk back towards the gate of District 12, masking my footsteps. I pull my face mask down. It is too risky to go out with my face bearing its scars. I reach the gate, but I turn left before slipping under. I must pay my respects to my master.

"My dark lord, I will destroy these tributes in these Games. You will have more souls to take," I whisper to the tree I marked with ashes and blood. I feel my soul burn as I stand up. Yes, I will get in the Games.

You see, people are so stupid when the night comes. It is so easy just to walk into the mayor's house and replace all the names in the ball with my own name. I feel volunteering would make me a target. I need to look like a poor boy with no home. My ill-fed body and mask should do that well enough.

I slip under the fence and start my walk to the square. I feel so filled with joy. For once, I will not be killing to live. I will be killing for him. For once, I can just enjoy the murder without worrying about the cleaning and such.

Because, all work and no play makes Azrael a sane boy.

**Vina Renna's POV**

Mala squirms beside me, fidgeting with the dress I made her wear. I subconsciously swat her hand down as I always do. "Stop fidgeting. It makes you look nervous," I mutter to her. I don't know if she heard me amongst the shouts of the crowd, but I see her nod out of the corner of my eye. That is the only response I get.

"You know, the odds are okay for us and all. I mean, the Seam kids have it much worse than us if you think about it. We should be happy Dad has the day off and all," I continue at rapid pace. I tend to speed up when I am talking if I get nervous. I don't feel nervous and I'm not showing it, but there are always those feelings lurking in the back of mind about getting reaped.

"I know Vina," Mala says to stop me, offering a light smile. I am used to Mala's quiet attitude, but on Reaping Day I find it slightly unsettling. I am determined not to let my feelings get the best of me and I hate it that Mala can do it with such ease. Here I am rattling off reasons we won't get picked while she already knows them.

I open my mouth to respond, but Mayor Underseer is at the microphone. The crowd goes quiet and he begins the long History of Panem. Most of us can recite the thing by heart, but it is required reading. I try to remain attentive during the History, but it is a bore. Finally, the Victor list is read.

District 12 does not have winning ready Hunger Games victors to spare, but we have managed four. The last victor was pretty recent. Storm Loret stands up for his applause. I always hate seeing him around town. He always looks so depressed, like he is going to kill himself. I can't wrap my mind around why he is still holding on to his dead love.

The microphone is handed over to a more gleeful Effie. I still remember the days she used to hate District 12. Who could really blame her? As I've said, we don't breed victors here. However, due to our more recent success in victors and securing spots in the final eight, she is more elated.

Effie takes the time for her usual spiel before moving to the female ball. Everyone holds their breath as she draws out a tiny slip of paper. Effie keeps us in suspense for a moment longer as she reads the name. The Seam kids must be dying of dread. "Vina Renna!"

Me. She just called my name, Not a Seam kid's name, but my name. The feelings I kept so carefully hidden in the back of my mind our now crashing over my whole mind in giant waves. I just hope they don't release tears. I walk up the stage, not holding my breath for a volunteer.

"Congratulations Vina!" Effie exclaims. I accept my applause, but not whole-heartedly. I know they are all thankful they or their children were not chosen. I was just a sacrifice. I try to avoid catching Mala's eyes, but I find myself looking over in her direction multiple times.

"Now for the boys!" Effie takes less time finding a name in the boys' ball. She snatches a piece of paper and reads it with her signature dramatic flair. "Azrael Lupin!"

I don't let my draw drop to the ground in horror. That would not be respectful. But oh how I want to. Everyone knows the Lupin kid. Half the District thinks he is insane while the other half just doesn't know what to think. I think he is a basket case. How many rumors are passed around about him, I don't know.

I just know that I have never been more scared in my life.

…

**What do you think of this set? Any stand-outs? As I've said before, I am not giving every bit of information about your tribute away yet. However, if the character is off, please tell me. I based Azrael heavily off of main Shining character, Jack Torrance. I won't be using the book for him the whole time. I just used it as a base.**

**District 14 is next which means Reapings are almost over! If I can, I will try to finish it tonight. Reviews make my day. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	6. Welcome to District 14

**Here are the District 14 Reapings. Also, I realized I made a mistake in the last chapter. The fire starter from the Hunger Games was District 8 not 9, but oh well. One thing for this chapter, Suzanne Collins never mentioned months in her books so I had to make a rough estimate for the next part.**

…

**Capitol Video Library- Section B, Subsection D, Video Number 16**

The following video is for authorized Capitol citizens only! Any viewers found going through said video without previously approved papers will be dealt with immediately. You have been warned.

**The following video presents the beginning and development of District 14. All information has been verified.**

District 14 was first proposed during the 60nd Hunger Games on May 17th. The idea was immediately shot down due to space problems and population size worries. However, the idea became more realistic when a Capitol scientist proposed new forms of energy sources for Capitol use. When considering using these sources, the logical way of adapting to them was to build a District to test them.

District 14 was proposed again and approved by Coriolanus Snow two years later during the 62nd Hunger Games on May 20th. Construction began immediately on what was known as Energy 14. The date marking the first day of construction is unknown.

The project was kept a secret from all of Panem for simple security reasons. Construction was completed less than six months later. The President himself arrived to on the finishing day to confirm completion. The new District was up to standards and crowned District 14, home of Testing Energy Sources.

The Capitol refused to solicit living spaces in the new District and did not speak of the new District at all. The reason given was that the Capitol was unsure how the District would manage and didn't want to shine spotlight on it before it proved successful. Instead, twenty people per District were shipped to District 14 as a test population for the new environment.

The District thrived with the little spotlight put on it. However, some Capitol officials began getting restless over the fact their children were not subjected to entering the Hunger Games. After a year long debate, the Capitol decided it would enter District 14 into the Hunger Games when its population of children reached one hundred.

It is unexplained how District 14 managed to avoid the Hunger Games for fourteen years. Many Capitol officials blame it on the Capitol directly telling them they didn't have to submit children until they reached a child population of one hundred. The officials think District 14 purposely kept their child population down. The mayor of District 14 denies such claims.

District 14 as a whole is marked the fourth richest District behind 1, 2, and 4. It is largely due to their small population though. Still, most of District 14 remains in the middle class area, more than most Districts boast.

Currently, District 14 cultivates solar power and wind energy. Capitol scientists are still looking into hydropower. Their industry proves to be very successful. Most of the population works to maintain the machinery and processes required to harvest these types of energy. Like all Districts, a small population works as shop keepers.

The people of District 14 are shown to be quite rigid, determined people. They work hard at what they do and with great results. The people enjoy the lifestyles they live and it seems to be a relatively happy District. However, not much else has been documented about their behavior.

District 14 remains mostly a mystery. Information has been leaked here or there, but the country still remains in the dark over District 14. When the District reaches the child population of one hundred though, they will be known.

**Edit: **Let the record show District 14 has been announced publically and will be participating in the 77th Hunger Games.

**End of Video**

**District 14: Astrid Aelish's POV**

District 14, what a joke. It isn't even a real District if you think about it logically. All we do is provide energy. But not the normal kind of energy, no we provide energy that no one even knows exists. I have lived here for fifteen of my seventeen years and that is what I think of my home sweet home.

Real I could get past all what District 14 does if it wasn't for the people of District 14. They are just so happily and obliviously stupid. They don't work for anything. The Capitol tells them what to do, they push a couple of buttons, and they are finished. The rest of the day they spend wandering around town just smiling with each other. There is absolutely no productivity. It is not like it is even sunny in our District anyway. District 14 is just full of mindless socialites.

It is a dog eat dog world and they are little cats compared to that. However, they are sheltered cats. Cats that don't do anything and still get tuna at the end of the day. I hate cats.

I manage to run through that whole mindset while reading a book on the full History of Reapings in Panem and walking to the first actual District 14 Reaping. I am actually happy on the inside. Finally District 14 is getting some reality.

"Are you excited for the Reapings?" Wessen asks me. My flicker up to his face and my brother is indeed smiling. I would be elated if he smiling for the reason I would be smiling. But he is just smiling to smile. In other words, he is wasting my time.

"I love the idea of two of the little children in our District being sent to their death," I mumble to him while skimming a brief section on volunteering. "By the way, that brush of sarcasm will cost you later." Wessen laughs at this, but he says no more.

People like my brother are my real problem. It is people like him who bother me. He goes through life without taking anything seriously. My parents didn't work their way to middle class for us to have their oldest son wasting away to the socialite bug. I am not working my ass off to support people like him either.

That is why District 14 is a joke. There is nothing logical about District 14. There is no substance to District 14. There is no hard-work in District 14. There are too many stupid people in District 14. There is too much of District 14.

Logically, the world would be a better, more productive place with out District 14.

**Karter Neandra's POV**

I never imagined this day would come. No one ever imagined it would come. The District had worked so hard to keep down the population, but I guess the Capitol really does always win. Ah well, whatever happens, happens.

"Ready for our first Reapings, Tommy?" I ask my best friend who is walking at a slow pace behind me. He narrows his eyes at me at the nickname. I can tell he isn't as excited for the day off as I am. Some people view the world like that though.

I myself view the world as a great place. I moved here to district 14 when I was two years old from District 2. I think that was when my life turned lucky. Not only did I get to avoid the burden of training, I didn't have to worry about Reapings at all. I just went to school, worked odd jobs, and let life take me where it wanted to. You could call it a charmed life.

As I've said, I never believed this day would come. The Reapings were somewhat of a joke here in District 14. Kids used it as a term when picking teams for football or other sports. It was actually good to get reaped first. However, now it has a new meaning and not a good one.

Kids have been nervous for weeks over the real Reapings. No one enjoys a good joke or prank anymore. Everyone has turned into such downers. Leave it to the Capitol to ruin the best District, one that is not blood thirsty or penniless. Now we were just a bunch of nervous wrecks.

Well not me, but everyone else.

I reach the large town square with Tommy right behind me. It is strange to see the usually bustling, jolly square turn into a crowed mess of sullen people. Not one person in the crowd is smiling. The younger kids are crying and clinging to their mothers' shirts. The older kids are trying to mask their obvious fear, but it is easy to see through their lies.

I wish this was all just a joke.

Tommy and I are verified by the Peacekeepers and soon we are in the newly roped seventeen section. Our classmates give us waves and a few boys try to start up a conversation. I happily join in, throwing in a few of my best jokes. However, Tommy just brushes off every single one. I can't believe what just a Reaping has done to him.

"After the Reaping, do you want to go outside the fence and try to catch a few animals?" I whisper to Tommy. That is one of our favorite activities besides playing video games at Tommy's house. I secretly prefer the outdoors over artificial games, but I would never tell Tommy that. Once you are introduced to the rich life, you are addicted forever.

"Whatever," Tommy mutters, staring straight ahead.

"Wow, what a great amount of enthusiasm you have," I say sarcastically. I see Tommy rolling his eyes at my sarcasm. I give up. I turn my back to him and begin to talk to the few boys who are trying to remain normal and I do so until the Reapings begin.

"Hello District 14 and welcome to your first Reapings!" The mayor only gets a faint clap. He doesn't ask for more. He didn't want to have our District subject to Reapings either. But, here we are. He makes it through the first History. We don't have a Victor List since this is our first Games. We actually do have some old victors who came here from other District, such as Tommy's father, but I guess they don't count.

The mayor hands the microphone over to an aqua haired lady with what looks like stenciled in tattoos all over her face. She gives a shining smile before starting. "Hello District 14! I am Kizzy Waterston and I am soooooo honored to be at this new District." She goes on to tell us all about herself before moving on to the first Reaping ball, the girls.

There are only roughly fifty or so names in the ball. No child in the District had to take out a tesserea and most of our kids are still only twelve or thirteen. Kizzy digs into the ball and pulls out the name for District 14's first ever female tribute. "Astrid Aelish!"

I know the girl well enough to know she hates me. We have only ever met once and that was when I was heading down the hall and I accidently knocked her books to the ground. She screamed something to me about how I shouldn't be wasting her time like this. I told her she shouldn't worry about wasting five seconds picking up books, but not in a cruel way. I still remember what she said to me afterwards.

"But if I waste five seconds every day picking up books because people like you don't watch where they are going, I would be wasting twenty eight minutes a year. That is probably about how long it takes you to process what I just said. So, I should worry about wasting five seconds of my time. And now I have wasted a whole two and half minutes explaining to you why I should be worried about it. This is why I don't associate with the likes of people like you. I won't be seeing you around."

She stormed off, leaving me astonished and a bit confused. I didn't ever see her around after that. Well, I did see her in class, but I never even talked to her again. That was five years ago. I would like to say it is a just a coincidence, but I know she tries to avoid interacting with me.

I see her now walking up the stage. She looks just like she always does: driven and above all determined. I'm sure she doesn't know what she should be driven to do or why she should be determine, but she just is. Her focus in the worst situation is truly astounding.

I remember her being the girl with her face in the books. She always was carrying something. Her life was work. It wasn't that no one liked her. She just seemed like she never had time. I'm positive that deep down she is a somewhat pleasant person who could even be popular. Maybe if she wins the Games she will relax and get a nose job. I think that is where all her stress comes from.

The crowd gives her a token of applause as Kizzy struts across the stage to call the next, now male name. The crowd holds its breath again, awaiting the name. "Congratulations Karter Neandra!"

I don't register really anything directly around me. I don't even get my own thoughts in order. My eyes just got to one place. I get a good glimpse of Astrid's face only to see the look of disgust on her face. Her eyes lock with mine for a brief, anger filled second before I have to look away.

If only I could joke my way out of this mess.

**Capitol: Roxlie McNeely's POV**

I jam my thumb on the off button on the remote and sink further into the couch. My mind felt numb from all the Capitol talk of the Reapings. It must be at least ten, far past the bedtime my parents set, but do not enforce. Since my sister isn't here to carry out said bedtime, I got to stay up far past it. I don't find it as enjoyable as I thought I would.

"How were the Reapings?" A huge grin spreads across my face at the voice. I turn my head around and the voice indeed belongs to Shaw. I jump off the couch and wrap my tiny arms around his waist. He gives me a kiss on my forehead. I can't help, but notice the foul smell of cheap liquor all over him.

"They were really good," I say into his lower chest. I pull away to look at him. I haven't been able to for awhile. He looks the same, but at the same time different. His eyes look more sunken in and his face is so hollow. I hardly recognize him.

"Any cute boys this year?" he asks me with a smirk. I smile back, but with less enthusiasm this time. He is missing a tooth on the bottom and his teeth in general are yellowing. Still, his smile is always welcoming.

"I like the boy from four," I remark with a huge smile at the thought of Karter. I usually went for the boys from District 1, since they were usually bred to be handsome. This year though, I am being drawn to Karter's boyish charm.

"Isn't he a bit old for you?" Shaw asks with a chuckle. I give him my best fake pout and shake my head.

"He is only older by year," I correct him, crossing my arms across my chest, thinking it will prove my point. Shaw just laughs again and ruffles my hair. "It is only a year," I insist more strongly. He looks like he is about to respond when the door creaks open and Jazz comes in. She looks at Shaw first, a burst of rage entering her eyes.

"Roxlie, get to bed," Jazz says sternly, but her scornful gaze stays on Shaw. I do as I am told and walk down the long corridor towards my bedroom. However, I stay outside my door, hiding behind the bog fern my parents placed there years ago. I can't hear them well from my own room.

"What are you doing here and playing with her emotions like that?" Jazz snaps first, beginning what might prove to be their biggest argument. I hear the dropping of bags and the sound of hurried footsteps crossing the living room.

"I am not playing with her emotions. She is my baby sister. I can talk to her," Shaw remarks softly. I know he is scared of Jazz deep down, even if he won't admit it. Boys aren't supposed to be afraid of their younger sister.

"Sure, you can talk to her tonight and in the morning. Then you can disappear again before she gets home and crush her yet again. You know who has to be her shoulder to cry on? Me," Jazz yells as quietly as she can. It astounds me she feels that way. I never thought she loathed me whining to her about Shaw.

"It won't be like that this time. I'll talk to her tomorrow and say good-bye to her for good. I am moving out tomorrow. It is all worked out," Shaw tells her. I snap a part of the fern from gripping the plant to hard. Shaw was planning on moving out.

"What?"

"I have got it all ready. I bought an apartment as far away as I could and I am going to wait up for mom and dad. I'm sure they won't be too angry. They might be elated."

"You can't do that. How the hell are you ever going to support yourself? The only thing you do is sleep around and co-run an illegal teenage casino. Things like that are going to land you in jail or worse. And if you don't end up there you will just end up on the streets of dying of a drug overdose. You're just a shameless funky, Shaw!"

"And what are you Jazz? Some uptight, self-serving bitch? All you care about is getting ahead now. I think I liked the old Jazz better. At least she knew how to keep her mouth shut and just go along with the crowd. The new Jazz just wants to shove Capitol propaganda down the country's throat!"

"There was no old Jazz, but that night is never coming up again. Maybe it will be a good change when you move out. At least I won't have to listen to your crap anymore!"

"But right there you just proved there was in fact a more fun Jazz. This Jazz would never keep a secret like the Fiona thing."

"Don't bring up the Fiona thing."

The Fiona thing. That was something I have been hearing come up so many times. It mostly in the arguments between Shaw and Jazz, but sometimes Daze mentions it too. I hardly remember my other older sister. She was younger than Jazz and Shaw, but my parents told me she moved out about a year ago. I believed it until the night of Jazz and Shaw's first major fight. They were throwing insults at each other up until Shaw yelled something about what happened to Fiona. I didn't hear it clearly, but it opened my eyes to the fact that she didn't just move out.

"I am so glad I am moving out. I am done with this life. I would leave the Capitol if I could. Unfortunately, that isn't an option for me."

"Well, I am glad you are leaving too. Have a nice life!" I hear footsteps storming down the hallway and I recede farther back into the fern. Luckily for me, Jazz's room isn't as far down as mine.

"Same for you Jazz!" The door slams after Shaw's final sneer. I hear Shaw collapse on the couch and turn the TV on. I strong blast of blue light fills the dark hallway. Despite this, I come out of the shadows and put my back against the wall. I feel as if someone has just dropped a massive weight on to my shoulders. I do what anyone would do.

I slide down the wall and let the tears come streaming down.

…**...**

**There you go, the last Reapings. I hope I did my new District justice. I don't think I did, but I'll try to shine more light on it as we go along.**

**Next order of business, alliance and romance nominations. Go on to the We Live As We Die forum to nominate anyone and everyone for alliances and romances. This is the only way your character will get a romance. If you can't comment on the forum, look at it then do your nominations here. **

**I hope you liked it. Reviews are just one button click away. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	7. And the Years Go By

**Thank you for all the positive reviews! The Reapings are over and I am so happy about it. Moving right along, here is the train ride chapter. Unfortunately for some of you, this chapter does not use any of your characters directly. This chapter is dedicated to our wonderful victors. I also decided I needed to give Bella a better problem and I love the one I gave her. It should prove to be interesting…now on to the chapter!**

…

**District 2 Victor: Season Vitale's POV**

Loneliness is a drinks best friend I conclude as I swallow the last sip of my cocktail. I knew I would be stuck waiting for my tribute for over an hour. I also knew I would get a bitchy girl two years in a row even after I specifically asked for the male. It is all just my luck.

My mind swirls with thoughts of just leaving and it just swirls from the alcohol. I am just about to call the waiting game quits when my not so lovely tribute decides to join me. I give her my coldest stare before putting my glass down in fear that I might hurl it at her. Antonia Sinclair, let's see if I can hate you more than Livia Drusus.

Anna looks at me to begin though I am expecting an apology first. I can see there is no chance of me getting one though as she just sits and stares. Finally I let out a heavy sigh and begin. "Wonderful that you decided to show," I sneer at her while picking up my papers. I had gone through trouble of devising a whole angle for her, but I see she doesn't care. "Any reasons? We are on a train; I can't see what would have kept you."

"Let's get one thing clear: I have absolutely no respect for you. You're just another washed up, alcoholic victor who will probably just waste away like the rest," she says with a scowl. "I have already made up my own angle. I am going as myself."

"That is going to get you really far," I say sarcastically.

"You won," Anna retaliates. This girl is good, that is clear. Her boldness is something new though. Livia didn't come out and say. Livia was one of the girls who would lie straight to your face then the minute your back was turned she would start stabbing at, using words and on some occasions real knives. Anna was the kind that seems to say it like it is. I don't know if that is a step up or step down.

I take a deep breath in, one that only shoots a wave of pain into my temples. "You can't just be yourself. Being you just doesn't cut it, especially not in the Careers. You need to be better," I tell her.

I am so ashamed of myself. Two years ago I was sitting in this very spot refusing to put up with the crap my own mentor was telling me. Now I was reprimanding a girl for wanting to be herself. What king of despicable person have I become? Anna is right and I guess Livia was right in her own sense. I am just one of the main stream, Capitol made victors.

That is not going to cut.

"No, forget everything I just said. Be yourself and don't let anyone tell you what is right and wrong. The girls from 1 and 4 will be fake, just to warn you. The girls my year were just exceptions. Don't trust them with your life. I have one more rule: don't trick anyone. That will just get you a knife in the back or if your lucky, chest."

I take one look at Anna and see her actually smiling. "You know, I think we might be a good team after all. Congrats, you just earned back some of my respect. Just one thing, I can't promise I will follow that last rule. Isn't that how you get ahead and win?"

I have never felt so much pride and so much hate for once person in my entire life. But she is right, this will be a great team after all.

**District 3 Victor: Bella Cauthen's POV**

My pen taps a speedy pace as I wait for my first ever tribute to enter the car. In front of me is a clean piece of paper with only one scrawled line on it. Well, it is more like one scrawled word if anything. It just said, "Survive."

I door slides open just as my pen pace retreats a level that would hurt anyone who stuck their finger near it. My pen stops as soon as I hear the slam of the car door. I look up to see the new District 3 male tribute, Miles McCarthy. His face still has a few traces of tears in the form of vibrant red streaks down his face. He did strike me as the sort who would cry. After all, his sister is in the Games too.

"Let's get this over with," he mutters as he takes the chair across from mine. I guess that rules out a more charming image. I would cross that option out if I had a list of options. This boy may be the most unlucky tribute in the Games with me as a mentor. Well, he could be Knox's tribute…

I immediately snap in to focus when my mind mentions Knox. I still can't wrap my head around what had happened to him. My friend was so romantic and sweet, maybe a bit stupid at times, but still full of sense. Now he is a lost cause, one I can't fix. What I need to do is fix my tribute.

"So, what kind of strategy were you planning on…" I abruptly stop talking when I see the disapproving look he is giving me. I furrow my eyes at him. "What?"

"You spent far too much time with Careers. In case you forgot, you're from District 3. That means you can't plan, you just survive." Last year if someone had told me this, I would have hit them on the spot for shamelessly bashing my District like that. This year is different. I know District 3 needs to survive. I know we are no match for the Careers. I just didn't want my tributes to succumb to that.

"I'm sorry. I have no idea what to do. I don't know why the Capitol insists on making all new victors mentors their first year," I admit. To my surprise, his face softens at my confession. I take note that he is much cuter that way. If only I can get him to be happier for at least the time in the Capitol…

"Don't worry, I won't judge. I watched your Games and you went through tons. I wouldn't blame you if you don't know what to do now," Miles says with a smile. "I am not supposed to make your job harder. I apologize."

Now I am so confused. The boy just pulled a total three-sixty on me. He comes in all snappy and angry and now he is apologizing for making my job harder? I knew his sister had some type of personality disorder, but I didn't think he had it as well.

"Okay…why don't you just tell me about yourself so I can get idea of who you should be allying with," I say, picking up my pen to write.

"Well, my sister is on the Games with me so that will probably get some supporters. I don't know how that will go with allies though, me pairing up with a little girl," he tells me. I scribble a few things on my paper, but I am too deep in thought to know what I am writing.

Miles is far smarter than anyone gives him credit for. He seems to know what will get support and what will get allies. Hell, I didn't know that when I went in. I guess I shouldn't compare to my own Games though. I had a whole alliance already set up for me. Still, he seems to know a lot more than I did going in.

"I have a question. How do you…"

"Know all these things? I have taken lots of notes over the years. I am quite the unlucky person in case you haven't noticed. I know what will get people in you favor," Miles says with a faint, but distant smile.

Smart, cute enough, and somewhat of a hero, I might actually have a fighter for my first tribute. Sure, his sister might bring him down, but who doesn't love a brother/sister pair? Maybe I can bring my first tribute ever home.

"Well, it looks like we have your angle," I say more to myself with a knowing smile. However, I notice Miles is smiling as well. To my shock, he takes my hand in his and looks straight into my eyes.

"I'm glad you're my mentor and not some older victor. I think this will be better than you think," he says with a larger, more full of happiness smile. He drops my hand and gets up to leave. Before he opens the train door again, he turns to me. "I was routing for you the whole time and not just because you were from my District."

Miles walks out of the train car and I hate myself for watching him go. I have to stay focused on helping him win. I don't think I could bear watching a boy with such beautiful, blue eyes…I shake the thought out of my head all at once. I have to stay focused on getting him out alive. For him to live of course, personal reason aside.

**District 5 Victor: Knox Overstreet's POV**

My back aches even as a soft bed lies under it. My head pulses with a familiar headache, but this is not from the drugs or alcohol. This is a really headache. The really kind haven't shown up for me in awhile.

This is my first year mentoring. I think that really just hit me. A year ago today I was that tribute, scared for his life. Now I am mentoring the guy filling my shoes. But who says he is going to follow directly behind me. I am just worried I will get him killed.

My mouth is so dry as I try to swallow back the worry and fear. What has my life become that I have to push back the emptiness and self-loathing. I used to feel so alive and now I just alone. Bella is gone. I try not to end all my problems with that conclusion, but sometimes I just can't help it. I think the train is rattling my head, making me unable to think straight.

A sharp knock hits my door, so curt my mind thinks it is the escort. However, when I hear the door click open and look up, I see it is Dexter, my first tribute and most likely first screw up. He seems afraid like he should be, but not of the Games, but of me.

"What?" I snap, my head throbbing too much to form a semi-polite sentence. The poor boy only backs up more at my question. But I have learned the hard way that you can't take back what you say or do so I let the moment pass with out an apology.

"I thought you w-w-were supposed t-to mentor m-m-me," he spits out with trouble. I had no idea the boy had a stutter. That is not something that will be good for interviews or alliances for that matter. I was just worried about screwing up a normal kid. Now I have to worry about a socially awkward stutterer. Doesn't my _life_ just get better and better?

"I guess I am," I say with a sigh that sounded more like a lazy groan. I sit up fully from my position and look the boy straight in the eyes. He looks so helpless it makes me want to scream. "Look, I don't really know how to help you. In case you haven't noticed I am new at this. Sorry if you wanted an experienced mentor though I doubt you'd get any in District 5."

The boy's head just bobbles up and down. This is the first time I take notice of his red hair which isn't common for District 5. It is very eye catching. Hopefully a stylist can work it to the point it actually looks good for some sponsors. That is just a fading hope it seems. The boy's looks seem to be the least of his problems.

"Look I would love to tell you what I did to win, but I don't really know what I did to win. I don't even know who I was back then. I wish I was still him, but I'm not and you need that boy mentoring you not me."

There I said it. He may be the first person who I have ever told even half that story to. Of course, he only hit an inch below the tip of the iceberg. The only person I think could get farther is Bella or maybe…no, it is too late for that.

"I d-d-do know who you were b-b-back then and you're right, I w-w-would much rather have him m-m-mentoring me. You are s-s-so screwed up, you know that? The whole D-D-District thinks you're screwed up. I w-w-would find that old boy f-fast because at this rate, I d-d-don't think you'll last the y-year."

If my headache wasn't so violent, my eyes would be the size of a child's ball. I can't believe it. No, not that the whole District was ashamed of me, I knew that well enough. I just can't believe Dexter. Did the boy with the nervous stutter just come out and bluntly tell me I was a disrespected by everyone and I should clean up while I still can.

But all at once Dexter's moment strength is gone. Instead, an even more nervous boy stands before me, cowering away towards the door. "I'm s-s-s-s." He doesn't even get the sorry out before he is out my bedroom door with his tail between his legs all the while I am still trying to make sense of what just happened.

Whoever that boy who had just stood before me was, I need to get him out for good. I might actually have a champion after all.

**District 12 Victor: Storm Loret's POV**

Season, I need you.

Those are the words I am desperate to yell into the receiver of the phone, but my fingers refused to dial. My heart may be reaching out for her, but my brain is still rejecting the very thought of her. I feel it running reason why I should never see her again, but heart just won't listen. I need her so much.

I prayed harder than I ever did in the arena not to get Azrael to mentor. I practically begged Haymitch to reconsider taking Vina, but he wouldn't budge. Even Haymitch, drunk on liquor, knew Azrael is completely and utterly insane. And not in a good way, like there is ever a good way. He is insane in the Marina way.

I contemplate running for my room and skipping my session with him entirely. Considering I heard he is somewhat of a hunter, I sure he can strategize himself. However, my feet keep me on the ground. I can't escape from this.

I know I can't when the door opens and reveals Azrael. I gulp down my fear and bring myself to slide into the chair across from him. I put on my best lying face, but I am no Elena Lovitz. I can tell by the way he is smirking maliciously he knows I am scared of him. I just pray I won't be the only one who fears him.

"Azrael" I start, zeroing my eyes in on a piece of paper so I don't have to look him in the eyes. "I was thinking for your strategy we use your…well…"

"I'll make this simple for you," Azrael says in a deep voice. I can tell he is leaning in to whisper his secret strategy, but I refuse to tear my eyes away from my paper. "I'll just kill them all off one by one."

My ears feel ready to bleed after listening to him say that. His words are like nails on a chalkboard, slowly scratching their way down to create the largest amount of torture. How did I ever get sucked into this? These are the moment where I wish I didn't stall Elena after all. How much better my life might be.

I clear my throat loudly and pull at the collar of my shirt, exhibiting only a tiny bit of the awkwardness and fear I am feeling. "That is a legitimate strategy. However, you also need to bring in sponsors. We need to also get a likeable angle…"

"No," Azrael says abruptly, cutting me off. "My dark lord hates the souls of shameless people pleasers. I will cause everyone to fear me. That is how I will do it." His sharp response is followed by a quick exit, leaving my confused, but at the same time relieved. He is gone for now.

I just don't know what to do anymore. I can't deal with him alone. I need someone to listen to my problems. I need Season back. But I know even if I beg, she won't listen to me. I am sure by now she has grown an anger for me. Why should she take me back after I screamed at her for everything she did and didn't bother to see her side of the story? How the years have ruined everything.

What have I gotten myself in to?

…

**Did anyone catch what Bella's problem is? This will definitely by causing some problems. Season has evolved so much from that anti-social Career girl in the 76****th****. At least she is trying to turn her life around.**

**I know this chapter didn't really have your tributes, but the victors don't get many POVs as the story goes along. Next up is the chariot rides! Reviews truly make my day. Peace Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	8. Days Where We Masquerade

**Here are the chariot rides! I hope you enjoy.**

…

**District 11: Tawncy Moriatri's POV**

Why must the Capitol be so hurtful? I have been sitting in this stupid chair all afternoon having people I don't know ripping every hair and imperfection off my body. And for what? One little night where I will be wearing lots of make-up and a gown anyway? I don't think the Capitol people will be able to see my hair from where they are standing anyway.

I have been trying to keep quiet through out the process. I am afraid that if I open my mouth, words of venom will just fly out at lightning fast rates. The three members of my prep team never did anything really horrible to me. Still, I do think their egos could be taken down a few notches.

That gives me an idea. Why not practice my acting skills for the arena with these people? I know it will be far easier to trick these three spoons, but it will still be practice. It seems that I have fierce competition and I could really use the acting work.

In three, two, one…

Just like that, I burst into tears. Vera, the woman doing my eyebrows, immediately jumps away followed closely by the other two. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" she asks sheepishly. I shake my head and work up a fresh batch of sobs.

"I am not crying because I am sad," I tell the team. They look a bit confused and I see they are not familiar with happy crying. I continue, "I am just so grateful that I can get all this done. I could never afford even a bit of make-up back in District 11."

I hear a chorus of gasps and I feel the three closing in. "You poor dear. We will do anything we can during your time with us to make you the most beautiful tribute in the arena," Vera assures me. I can hear Goldie and Blaze sniffling in the background. I try my best to smiling like I am grateful and not like I am very happy.

It looks like everyone else has a tough competitor to deal with. But they will all be gone before they even figure it out.

**District 2: Ben Valencia's POV**

If I hated anything more than arrogant assholes, it would be this. The chariot rides, what a sick form of torture. The whole idea of forcing children into foolish costumes that should be deemed inappropriate is insane. In all reality, the Capitol will one day look back and be ashamed of their foolishness. One day that is not today of course.

I see Anna isn't much enjoying our costumes either. I know she believes gladiators are strong by her harsh comment about how I don't even deserve to be in such a strong warrior's suit of armor in the elevator. However, I see she doesn't want to wear her so called strong warrior's armor. Finally, something we agree.

"We should talk to District 1 and 4. You know, to start the Career alliance," she states blankly. And now we are back to not agreeing on anything. I had secretly been planning to reject the Careers since I knew I would have to volunteer. Judging the last three years of Career packs, I will do better on my own. I don't want to be part of any Career pack if something happens like what happened in the last Quarter Quell.

However, I have no idea how to tell this to anyone. I thought I would just wait until the arena and run right past the bloodbath and Careers, but what would I do till then? I could just play along, but that would make me one of them. I would then be a hypocrite and that is not something I will be able to deal with.

I knew the Games would be complicated, but not this soon.

I have two options. I can just come out and tell Anna I don't want to be in the Careers or I can just be in the Careers. I don't think I can do either. The truth is, I kind of fear Anna. The weirdest part is, I actually don't hate her. I know she is a bitch, a little bi-polar, and sometimes an attention hog, but at least she isn't a lair. It would be easier if I hated her.

But, I have to go with option one.

I clear my throat and begin. "Look Anna, I don't want to be in the Careers," I admit before backing away a bit. I look at her for some sign of emotion and I do get something. Only, it looks like happiness, not a look of a cold-blooded killer.

"Thank you!" Anna practically yells. "I was really hoping you wouldn't want to join the pack. I don't want to either. I am sick of all this Career backstabbing. It is like the time in…"

"The Quarter Quell," I finish for her with something on my face I would call almost a smile, but I quickly drop it when I see who is coming over. "District 1 is walking over. What do we do?" I ask.

"District 4 is coming too. I say we do what we have to do…pretend to join the alliance," she tells me, ruining any happiness I had left. I should have known she would want me to lie to them. But what am I going to do? I still fear her a bit. I'll just do what I have done all my life: sit back and watch it all unfold.

"Marco von Erich," the boy from one says, sticking out his hand. I have known him for less than thirty second and I can already tell he is arrogant and will want to take control. It is all in his looks. But he would be easy to fool

"Camille Booth," the girl from 4 says next, taking no time for us to shake Marco's hand. I can read her easily too. She seems like a classic spoiled brat and judging by the immaculate state of her nails, she hasn't trained hard at all.

The two normal Careers' District partners seem hesitant to introduce themselves, but the boy from 4 takes the first move of the two. "Kantix Kosmelt." Anna shakes his hand followed by Marco. I can't read him as well. He doesn't seem arrogant or spoiled like Marco and Camille, but of course, he can't be trusted.

After Kantix is done shaking, the girl from 1 steps forward. "Bliss Honeycutt." She doesn't extend her hand to any of us and even retreats after introducing herself. She is weak, that is clear, but it seems physical not mental. She will prove to be interesting, I can tell.

So, one arrogant jerk, one spoiled brat, one question mark, and one physical case make up the Careers. But how easy will they be to trick? I turn to Anna to see if she is thinking the same thing. The face I get is answer enough.

I don't only have the Careers to worry about.

**District 14: Astrid Aelish's POV**

"Do you know how illogical these outfits are?" I ask Karter as an attendant helps me into the District 14 chariot, the first of many. Karter looks at me in confusion and then looks down at his outfit, a body suit with some…interesting properties.

"No, they seem cool. It will get us attention," he suggests, but I see he just thinks the outfits are cool. I saw it more in the elevator when he couldn't stop staring at himself, not knowing the outfit could get him killed.

"If the stylists or whoever made these made just one mistake, we could be burned to our bones. You how much of a disadvantage that will cause for us in the arena?" I ask. Karter shakes his head, but not because he doesn't understand.

"I'm sure whoever made these solar outfits did not make any mistakes," he says, acting completely oblivious to the danger we are in. Does he not have any sense? Solar panels are dangerous even if ours are just reflecting sunlight.

"You know how easy it would be to make a mistake with such a complicated style of clothing? I sure you don't" I say before he can cut in. Yet again, Karter shakes his head. I don't why this time though so I wait for him to speak.

Karter takes a few minutes in thought before finally answering his head shake. "Why do you hate me so much? Was it because of that moment in the hallway so many years ago? Can't we just put that past us? We are supposed to be in this together."

The moment in the hallway, I find it strange that I remember that. I wouldn't have been able to remember his name if he wasn't right next to me, but that memory has always stuck in my head. I am not positively sure why either, but I do know why I dislike Karter so much.

"Do you want to know why I hate you?" I turn to him for his answer. He nods eagerly just like I thought he would so I continue. "I hate you because you resemble everything I hate in a person. You don't care about anything and don't bother to do any work. You go through life without a care in the world. And you know who will have to take care of you when your brilliant little lifestyle fails? Me, the one who has worked so hard her whole life and that work is about to be wasted here. That is why I hate you."

I think I have put him shock. He has turned away from me and is now looking into the empty air in front of him. He isn't even looking at anything. He is in the thought process of his again. I assume I will not be getting an answer and drift back into the thought of dying when we get out their. It continues like this until the manager of the event yells to get started and the first chariot lurches to life.

"Well, let's put on a show," Karter says with a huge smile and puts an arm around my shoulder as our chariot begins to move up.

Damn he bounces back fast.

**Jazz McNeely's POV**

"I would like to propose a toast. To our little Jazzie McNeely, may she go far in the TV business," Saylor announces, raising her champagne glass. The rest of my friends raise their glasses as well and the sound of clinking flutes fills the one of the Capitol boxes. Saylor drowns down the rest of her champagne as we all laugh and joke.

"I can't believe you are going to be working on Good Morning Capitol from now on," Tristan says. "This means you can get me up to date tribute information, right?" I laugh at Tristan's usual eagerness to be a part of the Hunger Games.

"As well as always inviting us to the special box," Phoebe says and then immediately hides her eyes by swallowing a big gulp of her champagne. I nod my head to both of them and watch as Phoebe squeals with delight and Tristan tries to hide his equally loud squeal.

"Thank you guys so much," I say while carrying a fit of giggles. It is partially from the champagne and me just being giddy. As customary in the Capitol world, we all go in for a group hug. "Okay, as fun as drinking rounds of champagne is, I need to know the chariot outfits for my commentary tomorrow."

"You get to do commentary too? If I make a lot of sassy, but smart comments during the show, will you use some and credit them to me on the show tomorrow," Saylor asks hopefully. I nod along, though I think her comments will be more bitchy than sassy. I don't want to lose my job on the first official day.

"What are we waiting for? Let's party like Capitol citizens!" Phoebe yells loud enough for at least the boxes around us to hear. This receives a chorus of enthusiastic shouts and laughter from all around. I smile and shake my head as my friends go out on to the box's balcony. I linger a moment longer to grab another glass of that pink, sparkling stuff. If I am going to party like a true Capitolite, I need more to drink.

I grab the nearest drink which turns out to be lime green and go to join my rowdy friends on the balcony. I can already hear Tristan making some lame joke and Phoebe shrieking over it. I shake my head yet again and try to push past some of the interns I have to share my box with. Maybe next year I'll get one that is completely my own.

I am about on the balcony when one of the more ditzy female interns knocks me to my left. I crash right into someone, sending my drink on to the mystery person. My eyes go wide and I immediately try to form an apology of some sort.

"I am so sorry. I did not mean for that to happen. Do you want me to get you a napkin?" I ask almost helplessly. I am not very fluent in this side of human interaction. My face is already burning red as I watch the person try to rub the cocktail off their white dress shirt.

"No, but you can buy me a new suit," the boy snaps. I look up to see a young man around my age vigorously scrubbing at his shirt to no avail. Finally, he gives up and looks up at me in anger. However, that quickly changes suddenly to a look of surprise and maybe even delight. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am King Townshead."

If I was drinking some of that spilled drink, I would have spit it out. What an unfortunate name. "I am Jazz McNeely. Again, I am so sorry about your shirt."

King only smiles and shakes his head. "It is no problem and I know who you are. Shall we?" King offers me his arm to escort me outside. I find his transformation a bit strange, but I go along with it and accept his arm. We get outside just in time. The District 1 chariot is rolling out.

"I always found District 1 rather tacky," King whispers in my ear. I laugh at that though only because that is always my opinion. I look down at the outfits now to see the stylist hasn't changed. The outfits are still as sparkly as ever. It was actually gasp worthy. The girl is dressed only in sparkles and jewels and the boy is just wearing some type of oil to make him shine. Does that stylist have no shame?

I walk over to the ledge with King in tow to get a better look at District 2, a personal favorite of mine. "Now there is a stylist who knows what they are doing." District 2 is just as fabulous as ever. The two look like the old gladiators with breast plates, red velvet, and helmets with the scarlet red plumage.

District 3 comes out next and King is already laughing hard enough to have a heart attack. The brother/sister combo are painted all black and wrapped in different colored wires. It is definitely unique, but the girl is only thirteen. It is far to revealing.

I smile as District 4 comes out. I don't favor them as much as 2, but I admire the stylists work. They were both dressed as mermaids with an appropriate amount of sparkle for the girl and nice trident for the boy. It is clichéd, but you can only do so much with District 4 and still make them look attractive.

"Well, aren't they something?" King mutters to me as District 5 comes out. The girl has some kind of crown on her head that spews oil though it miraculously gets none on her. The boy is wearing and complimenting outfit with the oil as a cape instead. All they have is black body suits underneath.

District 6 was interesting. By the way King is chuckling; I can tell he thinks it is interesting too. The boy is drenched in what must be fake blood and wearing a used to be blue hospital gown. The girl, of course, is the slutty doctor. I take note that King is staring at her.

District 7 is terrifying to say the least. Much like District 7, the boy looks mutilated, but this boy looks more realistic with his blood looking like it comes from actual wounds. The girl is dressed like a murder with an axe. "That's new," is the only thing I can say.

I have never been very fond of 8. I feel the stylist doesn't even try. She didn't this year. The girl is dressed in a dress of buttons while the boy just has a variety of fabrics on. "She's not getting my vote for stylist of the year," I whisper to King who laughs and takes a sip of his drink.

9 is up next and I don't have very high expectations either. The boy is a hunter is a green cap and holding a fake bow and arrow. The girl is dressed as a deer. I admire the effort, but it isn't anything wonderful. "It's cute."

"If you could even call it that," King says, causing me to snicker.

The next two from 10 actually impresses me. The two are dressed like that old painting I can't remember the name of. The boy is like the man, but with a butcher knife instead of a pitch fork. The girl is also holding a pitcher of milk. It is unique in my opinion.

"At least it is different," King says to me. I furrow my eyebrows a bit at his insult to the design, but I don't respond once I see District 11 coming out. The girl is dressed in a gauzy, mother earth type gown with scattered leaves on it. The boy is the same, but with pants. It is cute enough, but the girl is like the girl from 3, way to inappropriately dressed for her age.

Now that District 12 is second to last, I'm not sure they will have the same effect. I was wrong. The girl is wearing a dress made of coal where each one pops with sparks of fire in different intervals. The boy is wearing the same, but with a body suit. Simply stunning.

The new District 14 is last. The whole crowd is silent with anticipation. The pair rolls out and they do it with a bang. They are both wearing what must be solar panels. But instead of sucking in energy, they reflect all the lights in the place. It is hard to look for too long at all the color they are showcasing.

The crowd gets rowdy again even as Snow comes out to greet the tribute. Instead of listening, I turn to King. "Good show this year. I have been meaning to ask you, when did you start working on Gooding Morning Capitol? Are you an intern?"

"Me, an intern? Hell no," he scoffs, looking at me like I am crazy.

I narrow my eyes in confusion and at how rude he is. "Well, only interns and other worker at Good Morning Capitol can be here. I don't think having an ego the size of a TV worker counts," I sneer at him. It was a bit cold considering he only made one chilly remark, but I hate when people insult interns. They work just as hard as everyone else. I should know.

"Oh, did I not properly introduce myself?" he asks in surprise. He puts out his drink and extends his hand to me. "I am King Townshead, your new co-host."

…

**There you go, the chariot rides. Also, King will be popping up frequently so keep your eye out for him. VividlyVisceral, I hope you don't mind that I changed King's age. I thought fourteen would be a bit young for working as a host.**

**Next is the first training chapter. I decided to split the training into two chapters this time. The first day will be one and the next two days will be the next chapter. Reviews are amazing. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	9. Crazy in Here: Part I

**Here is part one of Training! It consists of only the first day and includes four POVs. I hope you like it.**

…

**District 1: Bliss Honeycutt's POV**

I try to stomach the lobster omelet as I am forced to watch the animated conversation surrounding. Training days, these are the three days that I never wanted to go through. Yes, the Games themselves were the worst days of a kid's life, but for me, Training came in close second. It feels like so much pressure, being forced into alliances and told to make friends you will just end up killing off when it comes down to it.

"Remember, recruit the strong ones and try to gain trust of the rest," Cashmere finishes before taking a bite of her own omelet. Marco nods like it makes perfect sense, but I feel myself choking silently on my bite. I try to push the thought of gaining the trust of the little girl from 3 only to kill her. I bet Marco is planning to _do_ the same thing.

"What about 2? Something is off about them this year," Marco comments. Instantly, our two mentors and escort freeze. Despite my refusal to meet Marco's eyes since are break up, we share a confused glance. The mere mention of 2 seems to send our mentors into a state of uneasiness.

"You must keep them close," Cashmere says finally after heaving a sigh. "The farther they are from your trust circle, the worse it will be for you. They are powerful allies, but far more powerful as enemies. Do not set them off or send them away, hear me?"

Both Marco and I nod before our escort speaks up. "It is about time for Training so come on," she says in a cheery fashion. I place my crumpled napkin on the table and get up to follow. Marco is right behind me.

"So what do you think about 2," Marco asks. A tiny spark of anger lights itself in my mind. How can he expect to just talk to me like he did nothing two years ago? I hate the son of a bitch, but he seems to think we are the best of friends again. Not like we ever were to begin with.

"We should just do what our mentor told us to do," I respond in a monotone and briskly walk past him and into the elevator. However, I can't shake the boy and he ends up right beside me in the rather large elevator. Our escort does not enter the elevator, but instead just presses the button and sends us downwards. She must expect we know what to do. Everyone always assumes so much of District 1.

"I want to apologize," Marco announces once the doors of the elevator are completely closed. "What I did two years ago was completely out of line and I have felt guilty about it for all the time we were apart. I want to start fresh." With that, Marco extends his hand to me with a rather sincere look on his face, one I almost believe.

I give him a cold stare and then turn away from him and his hand. I have no intentions of reconnecting with him ever again. I hate doing it, but sometimes I imagine him dying in the arena. It makes me feel gleefully happy. Luckily, I am never the killer.

"Come one Bliss, babe. I said I was sorry. Deep down, I know I am just an asshole who doesn't deserve you, but my heart begs me to try to win you back. I am incomplete with out you." He caught me when he called himself an asshole. I looked and now I feel the frozen part of my heart where I keep any feelings for him unthawing. Why did I look?

"Listen Marco…"

I am interrupted by Marco waving my words away. "No, Bliss. I am afraid I can't take no for an answer. I will die without you in my life. I need you." I feel the passion in his eyes and I just know they are in mine too as much as I try to fight it. And when his lips collide with mine, I don't shy away.

The swish of the elevator doors opening saves me from getting in over my head. I run out of the doors and into the large circle of tributes already listening to the usual Training Rules. I avoid Marco's gaze until the speech is over and then I bolt again. Of course, bolting when you are surrounded by a large group of people is not the best idea.

"Watch where you're going," someone snaps when I crash into them. I don't fall and neither does the person, but I still feel a sharp pain in my right arm. That will leave a large bruise no doubt.

"I'm sorry," I say while fighting back a blush. I look up to see the boy from District 11 looking a bit angry, but seemingly unharmed. Why should he be? I am about half his size if that. Still I rattle off an apology anyway. I can't be making enemies in the first five minutes of Training.

"No harm done I guess," the boy says, sounding a bit less irritated at me. "Just watch where you are going next time. I wouldn't want a pretty girl like you running into trouble in the arena." He doesn't give me another glance and begins to walk away.

"Hey!" I yell at his back, hoping he won't get mad. He turns his head slightly to look back at me. "What's your name? I'm Bliss Honeycutt."

"Well Bliss Honeycutt, I'm Arin Anders."

**District 7: Steam Trace's POV**

"Is this right?" I ask, well more beg, for the fourth time. The instructor barely even gives me a glance this time. Instead he nods curtly and moves on to the girl from 12. I just shrug my shoulders and desperately try to string the bow again. I don't want to kill anyone, but I need to take precautions. Just enough to hurt someone is my goal.

"I think you are holding it wrong," a voice from behind me suggests. I turn to see the girl from 3 standing being me, smiling sweetly. I don't know why, but the smile reminds me of Jasper. She has a smile like that.

I don't want to, but I shake away the thought of Jasper. I can't be distracted by her if I am going to win to get back to her. Even I can't really wrap my mind around how I will do it, but I am determined to stay optimistic that good times will come for me. It shouldn't be hard for me of all people.

"You know how to shoot a bow and arrow?" I ask the little girl, trying not to sound like I think of it as a joke. However, the girl shakes her head with a laugh.

"Of course not, but the way you are holding it looks funny," she informs me with a smile. "My name is Shiloh by the way. Shiloh McCarthy." The girl extends her hand to me and I drop the bow for a brief second to shake it.

"I'm Steam Trace," I tell Shiloh. I drop her hand and wait for something, but the girl seems to be suddenly lost and thought. "Um, are you okay?"

"I knew a boy named Trace," Shiloh says in a dreary type voice, as she is half trapped in a dream. "Nice boy." Shiloh continues to stare straight at the wall as I try to make sense of why she is acting like this. "I have to go," she says, walking aimlessly towards the other end of the room.

"She is bi-polar and just a bit off," another voice from behind me says. I turn to see Shiloh's brother standing behind me, looking at Shiloh from across the room. "Miles McCarthy in case you didn't know." I shake the boy's hand as well.

"It must be tough, thinking about what will happen in the arena," I say grimly. Miles nods with a now more sober look on his face.

"It is horrifying."

"I'm here you are, about to enter a brutal war where every person is desperate to get back home. There is such little chance," I comment.

"You don't think we can't make it?" Miles asks me, a stormy look suddenly coming to face much like his sister and her dream trance. My first reaction is to back away, almost tripping over my discarded bow on the way.

"No, I am just says everyone has something to live for and it will be hard. I am trying to get back to my fiancé," I tell him, hoping to gain a bit of sympathy. I don't want to start any fights or make any enemies. I just want to get through training with out slicing the tip of my finger off with an arrow.

"I wouldn't count on it. As you said, we are all here to win. I just want to get my baby sister home and I will die doing it. Are you willing to kill a bunch of other kids to get back to your girl? Isn't that a bit selfish?" Miles leaves before I could defend myself, but honestly, I wouldn't know what to say. What he is saying makes perfect sense.

"Pick up that bow kid. It's expensive," the instructor barks and I scramble to pick it up. Still, my mind it spinning with thoughts of what Miles said. What would I do to get back to Jasper? Can it really be categorized as selfish? Is there even such thing as selfish in a game like this where the price is your life?

The mixed morals are mind blowing.

**District 4: Kantix Kosmelt's POV**

The Career table. It is just right in the middle of everything. It is just a table, nothing special. Yet every single kid who does not belong at said table is avoiding it like the plague. Just our table strikes fear into the hearts of those we have set out to kill. It is enough to make us feel horrible. We don't of course. We are just Careers and that is just our table. The thought of being outside of it is a foreign concept.

I sit down, slamming my tray a bit too hard. A clump of my mashed potatoes lands on the table with a plop. I ignore it, but it does not go unnoticed by Camille who gives me a look of disgust before wiping it away with a napkin. She throws it to the other side of the table, having it land right in front of Bliss. This seems like a normal gesture in the real world. But this isn't the real world and I know Camille did it on purpose. In Careers world, accidental disrespect is an immediate sign of secret scorn.

I let the moment pass since I do not know what to do. I let the rest of the group sit. Ben and Anna are last as I suspected they would be. The pair sits across from Camille and Marco, but refuse to make eye contact. I feel a bit of tension begin to rise, but I try to ignore that too.

Marco is the first to speak among us, relieving some of the awkwardness that had risen with the tension. "Is it just going to be the six of us or are we going to recruit? I have seen a few possible recruits if we are in the market."

A few quick glances are passed around before I speak up. "The boy from 10 looks good. He seems strong and quiet. He will be a good ally." I pray that I made a reasonable argument, but a huff from Camille kills my hope.

"Isn't he like, black?" Camille asks in a slightly disbelieving tone. She acts like I shouldn't have even brought him up as an option, like he is below us. I should have known she of all people would reject the idea of Raze as part of our pack.

"That is so typical," Anna sneers, surprising us all with her loudness. The rest of the cafeteria goes silent, trying to get a peek at Career problems. "Of course you would reject that idea. You're racist. Daddy brought you up really well, didn't he? You would be lucky to have someone like him protecting you. You are lucky in the Careers because if you weren't, you would be totally _bloodbath_."

Nobody can help it, we all gasp. Being called bloodbath was one of the worst insults in this situation. Bliss and I share a look of almost horror over the scene. I would not have pinned Anna to react so brash over Camille's insolent little comment. It really does show how much Careers hold back their deepest thoughts until their breaking point.

I catch a brief look of Marco and I can almost see the steam coming from his ears. "So do we want him or not," he hisses, bringing down our volume. Camille immediately shakes her head, sticking her nose in the air. I shake my head as well. We don't need to bring unnessacrary drama into this pack. Bliss does not respond along with Ben. Anna gives a brief nod, but it is clear the vote is not in the boy's favor. Well, I don't know if he'd even want it.

"I guess he is not on the team," I say to finish the vote. I want to end what I started. I shouldn't have spoken up in the first place. District 4 is known to be the ones on the sideline, going along with the leaders of 1 and the brutes of 2. Who are we kidding? We don't belong here.

I look down at the table. Even it is mocking me.

**District 6: Finn Darrenhall's POV**

I manage to get out of the cafeteria last out of everyone. It is just my luck I suppose. Still, I get to watch all the weaker District flock back over to the survival stations while the Careers monopolize the weapons again. It is easily predicted that is how it will go for all three days. A few braver souls of the weaker Districts dare to take on the weapons, but I chose to follow suit with the rest of my people. Not because I am scared of the Careers. I did the weapons before lunch.

The knot station happens to be the least populated area with just the boy from 12 sitting their. I heard rumors about him being crazy, but I decide not to believe them until I know him well enough. I take the seat next to him and listen to the instructor tell me how to tie a simple beginners knot.

The boy from 12 gives me one peculiar looks before just getting up and leaving. I can't conclude he is a nut job from that one exchange, but it is easy to see something is off in his head. I find myself hoping I won't ever find out what that something is. I continue to tie my knot is peace alone and I find it very pleasant.

Over time, I move on to harder knots. Deep down, I think knot tying is a waste of time, but I have nowhere else to go and no one else to buddy up with. Some our sticking with their District partners and I see others forming alliances. I smile a knowing smile to myself when I see boy girl pairings. I wonder who the next Mimi and Storm will be.

Eventually, a girl joins me in knot tying. I surprise myself when I recall her name and District. Katarina Peters from District 5. I don't remember her reaction to being reaped, but I can already tell she is a quiet one. Still, I need at least one friend in this game.

"I'm Finn Darrenhall," I tell her after the instructor is finished giving her the simple knot assignment. Katarina looks me up and down before just nodding and starting her beginning knot. Even when she is just starting, I can see she will be having problems.

The secret is to keep your hands and fingers loose," I tell her with a smile. She looks at me again and does another nod before attempting the knot again with some success. "So, you're the quiet type? I like to think of myself as the quiet kind myself. We might make a good…"

I am about to say team with I feel Katarina nudging my arm. I turn to look at her again and see her shaking her head. When she sees she has my full attention, she covers her hand over her mouth. I furrow my eyebrows a bit in confusion before the conclusions snaps into place.

"Oh, you can't talk. I'm sure that will get you some support. I don't see how you will do the interview since talking is required," I tell her. I almost see a smile on her lips before she turns back to her knot tying. I hate having someone here and not being able to voice my opinions so I decide to continue talking.

"As I was saying before you told me about your thing, I think we will make a good team. I don't know if you have made any promises to anyone or anything, but I am kind of on my own here so if you want to…"

I feel her poking at my arm again and I look at her again to see her smiling for real. Katarina nods at me which I hope means she has accepted my ally request. I smile in response, but I can't help wondering how this will work out if I can't really communicate with her and vice versa. I am usually not the one doing all the talking.

Looking at her though, I know don't want to make it a problem.

…

**Well, there you go. Not my best, but I have to set up the romances. The next chapter will be the second and third day of Training with training scores. Expect more romances, alliances, and rivalries to emerge.**

**Reviews are much loved. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	10. Crazy in Here: Part II

**Goodness, long time update, huh? I'm sorry, but I have had a lot of work lately along with my new and crazy diving schedule. My updates might not be as frequent. Still, enjoy!**

…

**Day 2**

**District 7: Sunday Lancast's POV**

My head pulses with the sounds of swords clashing, tributes whispers, arrows soaring, and so much more. However, none are more evident in my head than the sound of my own beating heart. My hands are sweating as I pick up a knife from the fancy array that is before me. I don't know if my nerves are on a rampage or something else was going on, but my vision seems to be fazing in and out at will. No one said this would be simple though.

I find myself searching around the room for a witness. A careers witness preferably. I believe that is the best plan, get into the Careers. I could be the new Elena and spy on the pack from within. Then, I would do what I came here to do. Just kill the girl from 2 and the rest I don't care about.

Not one Career catches my eye though. They are all too wrapped up in their own training. I do take an extra glance at my target, Anna. She looks rigid with determination as she wields the sword against her training. It is quite obvious she is far above the trainer's skill level. She seems to be wasting time. I do take note that the other Careers are eying her too. They know what I know. She is a powerful enemy and ally.

I finally turn back to my throwing. I may not have caught a Career's eye, but I need the practice. It isn't easy as it looks, stabbing people in the back. I salvage the little bit of my focus I have left and throw my knife at the target. My focus and direction fail me as the knife misses the target completely.

"You hope the Careers will check you out for that?" The voice startles me to say the least. I feel myself jump whilst turning to see the person interrupting me. It is a boy around my age giving me a smirk and holding back a laugh. Just what I need, a sarcastic onlooker.

"What do you want?" I snap quickly, though I want to ask him how he knew I wanted to attract Career attention. The boy shakes his head and laughs again at my question. He extends his hand instead of giving me the answer.

"I'm Todd Halder. Pleasure to meet you Sunday Lancast or I believe you used to be called Sunny."

I immediately curl my fists in rage at the very sound of my old nickname. That was my past and how does he know that? I am about to ask when he begins again. "I see you are wondering how I knew that. I have taken an interest in you. You seem to be more than just a sibling bent on revenge. Now tell me, what happened to the little girl routing for her sister and her lover last year? What was that one comment you made? Something about District 7 and 1 babies?"

This boy Todd was in serious danger of getting throttled. I already feel my rage becoming uncontrollable. I bite down hard on the inside of my bottom lip to regain some control. The boy is safe for now. "I don't need to answer you questions."

"But what you do need is an ally," he comments. "You can't take out the District 2 girl by yourself and backstabbing is a bit tacky and cliché, don't you think? You need to trap her with something. You need dirt on her and you need to make her some enemies."

I hate to say it, but this Todd has me intrigued with his words. My rage calms itself down slightly and I release my bottom lip. I taste the blood in my mouth, but it hardly bothers me. It is something I am use to. I don't know how to make him continue so I make a little hand motion. Todd takes note and smiles.

"Well, it is good to see I have made an ally. I can get you anything you want. You will find that I am very, shall we say, persuasive. Of course, I will need something in return. You don't expect me to do it for free, right?"

A tiny flame of anger is back, but I try to beat it out. Still, my eyes narrow at Todd. "What kind of payment are you considering?"

"Not considering darling, I know what I want," he says with another one of the smirks he seems to fancy giving me. I narrow my eyes further, but this seems to be funny to him. "I heard your face will freeze like that."

"What do you want?"

"I want to be the one to kill Anna," he tells me. I almost fall back in shock and more anger. He wants me to give him the one kill I have had planned? The only thing that made me volunteer? Well, maybe not the only thing, but still. Who does this boy think he is?

"Why would I do that?" I sneer. I find myself biting at the bottom of my lip again.

"If she is dead, she is dead. I don't see why you have to do it yourself," Todd says with a small shrug. "Anyway, I am giving you a much better deal. I am giving you allies and a cause. Why just destroy Anna? Why not make a whole group to destroy the Careers in sweep."

"I don't need…" I end mid-sentence. End the Careers, what an interesting idea. No one had ever dared try to take them completely out. Elena corrupted them, but she did not cause complete destruction. Hell, a Career won in her year. Having the Careers out before the final eight, this would put our Games in the History book.

"It seems to be that you are in," Todd guesses. "And I think it will be good for both of us. I'll gift you the idea and I get the kill. Our pack will go down in history, even if we don't live to see it ourselves. So, do we have a deal, Sunny?"

He puts his hand out once again and I want to quickly shake it. But if I had learned one thing from the Games, never give the full truth. I would get my kill and the name in the book. First, I will have to leave the poor boy hanging. "We'll have to see on one condition. It's Sunday." I put a hand on his cheek and push the side of his face. "Darling."

**District 9: Almond Willow's POV**

I get another good grip on the spear and chuck it at the dummy that is not even a full yard away from me. I miss by a long shot. I groan in frustration and reach fro another. I miss to grab one as well. I want to stomp my foot on the ground in annoyance with myself and the weapon, but I don't want to be marked as the immature girl. Though, it would be hard to be the small girl from District 3.

I manage to get the spear this time and I try to through it in the right direction. I succeed, but only slightly. The spear enters the dummy's shoulder. However, the instructor finds this a major improvement and applauds me on the effort.

"I wouldn't worry about it," a girl behind me says. I turn to see the girl from District 14, whose name I didn't bother to learn. I have secretly just been considering them bloodbath. "However, your angle and direction are far from perfect. It would be best to hold it slightly up so that it will have a better chance of hitting rather than dropping down at their feet."

"Do you know how to throw spears?" I ask. I wasn't curious just annoyed at this girl for telling me how to hold a weapon. She doesn't even seem to know how to pick up the weapon let alone throw it.

"No, I just know science," she explains, mimicking my slightly hateful tone. I realize I may be starting to make an enemy and that is not something I want to do. My plan is to make no enemies and no friends. That way I can hide out until the game is at the final eight and make my appearance then. People do it every year. It shouldn't be difficult.

"I'm Almond Willow," I say, extending my hand out to her. She seems a bit skeptical of my sudden change in mood, but she shakes anyway.

"I know what your name is. I took the time to know all the tributes names. It is easier to know who is dead in the arena. I'm Astrid Aelish," she tells me. She drops my hand immediately when we are done shaking and picks up a spear. I don't know what else to say, but I can't stand standing here in total silence.

"Your District partner is pretty cute," I say in an effort to start up another conversation, one that is not backed by annoyance or the blooming of hatred.

"What?" Astrid stops what she doing and almost drops her spear.

"I just said he is cute. I don't know if he is really my type, but I can't deny that he is good-looking," I say as I try to locate the boy in the room of other tributes. I find him testing out the edible plants station.

"I don't think he is cute and he probably isn't your type," Astrid sneers cruelly as she tightens her grip again on the spear. She turns her back to me and goes for the target dummy opposite of mine. She throws the spear only to have it drop at the dummy's feet. I snicker at her failure, but she just turns to pick up another spear. "That was my imitation of you."

I stop laughing to shoot the girl a sour look. I pick up a spear of my own and throw it with all my strength. It lodges itself in the dummy's shoulder again. "I would like to see you try to make even that shot."

Astrid seems to have accepted the challenge and prepare to throw her own spear. She doesn't seem to throw it with much strength and start to laugh again. That is until it lands straight in the dummy's heart. Astrid turns to me with a smirk. "Would you look at that?"

**Day 3**

**District 10: Raze Tanner's POV**

I grab the blade before the other hand could swipe it away. I hear a soft growl from the person, but I pay it no mind. I need the practice and the best sword. I need to stand a chance, more actually. I have spent the last two days watching tribute interactions. Now, it is my turn to impress.

"What ever happened to chivalry?" It is the girl from 2 as I predicted. She has been hogging the swordplay station every single training day. I don't care. She doesn't need another skill. I bit she could throw a blade faster than a knife thrower. She is not someone to be taken lightly and not someone to underestimate. However, I need to find something wrong with her for I am in danger of overestimating her.

"Chivalry died when you got off the train," I tell her. "So, Anna Sinclair, back again for more practice or is this just a sill game to you?" I hear another growl along with the sound of sword clanging against another. She has already begun. I turn quickly to catch the trainer's eye. I see the fear.

"I guess I am going to have to say the second one," she snaps. I expected her to be cold, but all the Careers are at first. I don't want to judge her personality yet. Due to recent events, I believe she might have a bit more depth.

"I want to thank you Anna," I tell her even as my back is turned. I wish I could see her reaction, but the instructor is trying to teach me something I probably already know. I don't hear anything for a long while, sword clanging included.

"You're welcome," she mutters, sounding a bit stunned. I expected that too. She doesn't seem to be one who helps people a lot and probably doesn't get many thanks.

"So, I am Career material? I didn't really see that coming for the exact reason Camille said. I was surprised you thought differently."

"You think you know me," Anna snaps suddenly. I didn't think she would be offended by that comment. It takes me aback a bit and I wait for her to continue. "All you tributes are the same; you assume things about each other. District 1 tributes are shallow, 2's are brutes, 3's are smart, 4's are shy, and so on. It is sickening."

I knew I would be surprised by Anna Sinclair. But I never thought I would get information this quickly. I don't know why Anna interests me so much. It did start two days ago yesterday. Maybe it has something to do with what she said. Maybe I thought she was different then the stereotype people have molded her into. I feel the same about myself.

"I'm done here," she says promptly to the instructor. She gives me one last look before she goes. It is not anger, but just confusion. She is probably thinking the same about me as I am of her. I watch Anna walk towards the knife throwing only to be confronted by the boy from 9, Todd. Interesting, I didn't assume he was that bold.

"She is so out of your league and she will kill you when she gets the chance." It is Lyli, my less than wonderful District partner. It seems just like her to say something like that. I shake my head at her thought though.

"I would judge her just yet. There is more to her story than meets the eye."

"Whatever you say," Lyli mumbles with a small laugh. I brush it off and turn back to my training. Lyli could be right or wrong, but I want to know Anna Sinclair, maybe if it does kill me.

**District 12: Vina Renna**

I feel the soft feeling of couch stuffing as my finger nails break through the fabric of the couch. It is not like me to get insanely nervous, but I find my mind spinning. The others around me look jumpy as well. Training scores can make or break you and even if you don't think it, you have everything to lose. A bad training score might cost you your life.

The screen flickers to life with the Capitol symbol. The one thing I hate about District 12 is the wait. I have to sit here and watch everyone else pull decent or great scores while I wait in agony, hoping for the best, but thinking the very worst. It is utter madness.

The boy from 1's picture is the first on the screen. And so it begins, the long line of tributes faces and a little number that is worth everything here.

District One

Male: Marco von Erich 8

Female: Bliss Honeycutt 6

District Two

Male: Benevolence Valencia 10

Female: Antonia Sinclair 10

District Three

Male: Miles McCarthy 7

Female: Shiloh McCarthy 4

District Four

Male: Kantix Kosmelt 8

Female: Camille Booth 6

District Five

Male: Dexter Hasselback 7

Female: Katarina Peters 4

District Six

Male: Finn Darrenhall 7

Female: Cetera Jellon 7

District Seven

Male: Steam Trace 9

Female: Sunday Lancast 9

District Eight

Male: Ian Williams 6

Female: Kamira Lyre 6

District Nine

Male: Todd Halder 7

Female: Almond Willow 6

District Ten

Male: Raze Tanners 10

Female: Lyli Hyerman 6

District Eleven

Male: Arin Andrews 8

Female: Tawncy Moriatri 8

District Twelve

Male: Azrael Lupin 10

Female: Vina Renna 7

District 14

Male: Karter Neandra 6

Female: Astrid Aelish 9

A seven, it wasn't the worst score out there. But it was certainly not the best. I can't say I am surprised by Azrael's high score. He has ability. I'm surprised he didn't eat one of the Gamekeepers.

"Good job both of you," Storm tells in his mumbling tone before making a hasty exit. Cinna is gone quickly as well, but not before giving my hand a squeeze. I give him a fleeting smile and watch him exit almost as quickly as Storm. Soon, the whole room is vacated, leaving just Azrael and me.

"Good job," I tell him with my best attempt at a smile and true sincerity. I have a hard timing telling if it worked. He just gives me another one of his eerie once over's before turning away. I can't help it, I scoff. The least he could do was acknowledge I said something nice. It is hard to compliment someone like him. I can barely look at him.

"Well, I'm going to bed. I guess I will be seeing you tomorrow," I say quickly before stalking out of the room with my silent fury. It is then I feel the hand on my shoulder. I instantly shudder and whip around. It is Azrael.

"And the day after, but not for very much longer," he says with a creepy smirk. His hand squeezes a little harder and I squirm with discomfort, but I can't jerk the hand away as I hard as I try. He notices my discomfort, but this only widens his smirk. My breathing becomes a bit shallower, but I take one large breath and try to act humane towards him despite the way he acts to everyone.

"I'm going to go to bed," I say in a quiet voice before trying one last shrug. His hand gives this time, but I feel that he just let go. I retreat back and give him a disgusted look, one he has had coming for a long time. He just gives a low chuckle at this. I turn my heels and stalk off once again, but my whole body is tense.

"Remember Vina, time is fleeting and it is not something you will want to waste."

…

**There you go. I liked this chapter. I think it went well. Next is the interview chapter and then the final chapter before the Games, the roof chapter. I can't believe we are almost in the arena**

**So, reviews are lovely. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	11. Just Give Them What They Want

**Sorry this took forever, but here are the interviews. Wow, soon we will be in the arena. I have chosen bloodbath and the pre-winner. My pre-winner is the person I pick for the winner in the beginning to start the plot up, but it will probably change as the story progresses. Enjoy the interviews!**

…

**Jazz McNeely's POV**

Caesar Flickerman is dead.

It is a worthy headline for the Capitol's shock. It is a sentence in such plain English, it conveys all meanings. The news came this morning, the very night of the interviews. They say he died of an existing heart condition, but everyone can see the foul play.

Connie Summers snaps orders at her make-up artist as Char Winters runs last minute line changes over. The two look so innocent, they reek of guilt. However, not one of the dim minds in the Capitol would point an accusing finger at them. They are just too perfect to plan the crime. Too perfect to have a doctor mark off Caesar's death to nonexistent heart conditions. But above all else, they are too perfect to let go of when the Capitol has no charming and beautiful face to lead the interviews.

I watch as the lies settle into truth and it is over. Caesar Flickerman must be screaming in his grave, but Connie and Char are laughing with the best of them. It truly is the perfect crime. But how hard is it to get away with a perfect crime in such a perfect world?

"Jazz!" The curt voice of my stick in the mud producer wakes me up from my mystery world. I turn to face Johnson and wait for whatever rant he has to go on. He surprises me when he extends his hand. "Congratulations."

I know better than to not shake his hand, but I do not mask my confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Now that Connie and Char are heading the Interviews, the station has decided you will be the perfect face for the Final Eight Interviews. You might need to do some alterations to keep up with Connie…"

I shut him out after that comment. It will only ruin my mood. I, Jazz McNeely, will be heading the Final Eight Interviews. I only pray this isn't a silly dream or cruel joke. This is the break I have been wanting. Sure, it took a murder, but I had time to remorse. This is it.

"I will just tell your co-host you're on board…"

"Wait, my co-host?" The shock and confusion collide together when my ears let Johnson back in. My question receives one of his barking laughs which only strengthens my confusion. Is this just a joke?

"You didn't think you would be doing this alone my dear? No, that young King boy will be right alongside you. You two could make the next Capitol hot couple!"

As if on cue, King appears alongside my boss, smiling a victorious grin. I don't even have time to give him a scowl before Johnson is talking again. "You two will be briefed on your jobs tomorrow. See you tomorrow."

Johnson leaves, leaving me alone with King, who probably has already prepared a monologue for this moment. "I just want to say it is going to be a pleasure working with you Jazz. If you ever consider being a 'hot' couple…"

Why couldn't the headline have read "Caesar Flickerman: Alive for Eternity"?

**District 2 Victor: Season Vitale's POV**

Per usual, I have interrupted the perfect balance of things I did not mean to disrupt. Unfortunately, destruction of order will find me anyway. It is such a simple little thing I have messed with, but it might as well be larger for life for me.

The Victor's platform for interview viewing is now no longer arranged per District. Now, any victor can sit anywhere. For most of the older and even younger victors, this is more of a delightful surprise. For me, I would rather die. Along with Bella, Knox, and Storm, I am completely alone. Every victor is happy to mingle with old friends, but we remain isolated.

I wait to sit down for as long as I possibly can. I try to sit as far from Storm as possible, whilst secretly hoping he will come find me anyway. However, when that moment actually comes, I try to pull down the closest bystander to keep Storm away. It is strange to say I have never feared someone so much before even after close contact with Elena Lovitz. Yet any mention of Storm tenses me.

I happen to grab the new boy from 5, Knox. He seemed to have been doing the exact same thing I was doing, avoiding his other, probably better half. Bella got a seat next to Storm and I hear both myself and Knox letting out a sigh of relief.

"Why are you running from him?"

I have been avoiding that question for awhile, even if I ask it myself. Isn't it about time I ended this distant? He is the only one left to understand me, yet I push him farther away everyday. What am I afraid of?

"I guess I'm afraid he still hates me." Admitting things to complete strangers is kind of my thing now. Still, I wouldn't call Knox a complete stranger. I have a feeling he knows how I am feeling right about now.

"Bella and I did not leave off on great grounds last time we talked."

"Same here," I say with a glum sigh. I feel another flashback coming on. Of all the ones from the Games and after, my fight with Storm is the worst above all. It is hard reliving the moment where you lost your best friend.

"You should talk to him. You can't hate someone who you have shared so much with. Hasn't been over a year now?"

"Why don't you talk to Bella too?"

Knox sighs much like I had, in a gloomy way. "She can't even look my way anymore. I don't think Storm can keep his eyes off of you. You're lucky. I don't think Bella will ever come around."

I am about to look Storm's way to see if Knox may be right, but the lights dim and the crowd begins making more noise than they had before by hushing each other quiet. It is like a complete three-sixty. No one could guess a famous television icon died this morning.

I watch as the tributes file on to the stage, some waving and others walking with about as much appeal as cardboard and they were about as stiff as it too. They take their seats and wait for the two hosts.

Let the interviews begin.

**District 3 Victor: Bella Cauthen's POV**

You never do know a good thing till it's gone.

Caesar may have been all smiles and wrinkle erasing make-up, but at least he could make a tribute shine. Connie and Char overshadow every tribute on the stage, down to the beautiful girl from 4 and the god-like boy from 1.

The girl from 1, Bliss, is delightful. She looks beautiful as well, but in a less than modest way in a tight gold dress. She is a bit bland, but sweet. "We've all got to die sometime. Why not do it on the grandest stage in the world?"

The boy from 1 is far less delightful. He looks perfect in his tux, but he is no match for the looks of Char. Still, he has a clear personality and it is that of part overconfidence and part jack-ass. "I suppose I can't rely on my good looks and charming wit to win me the games. I'll have to do it the old fashion way; blood, sweat, and tears... theirs, of course." That is my personal favorite quote of his, shows both halves of him perfectly.

The pair from 2 is as vicious as usual, but still proved interesting. Ben was mysterious and seems to be very intelligent beyond his young age. Anna was scary, but driven at the same time. They will go far.

I felt bad for Shiloh as she goes up. She poses no immediate threat and is not interesting in the least. She is cute, but her only way to survive is through her brother. So, you can say I am routing for her.

My heart skips a beat when Miles comes on. I try to scold myself for it, but I can't help it. He is just as charming as I told him to be yesterday. It hit a sour point when Char mentions his sister. I told him not to go for protective brother, but the boy can't stay away. "Shiloh's my world. And I'll do anything it takes it protect her. If she dies, I die, whether from the enemy or my own blade."

Four is…four. The boy is like any District 4 boy, driven and confident, yet he seems to be better than the lot of Careers District 4 produces. It is the girl, Camille, who makes me want to scream. Her shallow attitude is nauseating. I can't make myself wish for her death, but I will not be supporting her.

District 5 proves to be the most interesting so far. The girl from 5 is even more interesting. Being unable to speak is a challenge itself, but through scores, she has even more of a challenge. Still, her sweet appearance and no voice will get the sympathetic sponsors. Dexter pulls of the mysterious angle better than Ben and his almost brooding looks might get support for the ladies. The only thing stopping him is that hair.

After District 5 is over, I can't helps peeking at Knox, my Knox. I still feel it, the hatred from last year. Yet, I feel the more I fall for Miles, the less hatred I feel for Knox. Was I subconsciously in love with Knox the whole time and my anger was my way of getting over it? I wave the idea way though. I never loved Knox like that. I might have loved Battler like that, but never Knox. Never.

Still, Knox was good thing that I have lost.

**District 8: Kamira Lyre's POV**

The sound of the Steam's applause is far more than to be desired. Everyone loves a good sob story. Unlike many of the tributes, he knew what the audience likes. That is how things work around here. It takes the right formula and the right timing, but if you get it right, suddenly Capitolites are knocking down your mentor's door trying to sponsor.

I know what I have to follow up. Six was interesting at a normal level, not very exciting, but in a subtle way. Seven brought the attention. Steam is probably the second most good-lucking boy in the Games behind the obnoxious boy from 1. He talked about his fiancée and how he will try to make it home to her. The girl is a bit terrifying, but she will be a fan favorite like any revengeful sister and villain type.

I take in a deep breath and walk to the stage. I am greeted by the new host, Connie. I am sure I look hideous beside her as every other girl has. No one can look radiant next to someone like her. I shake her hand and wait for the rain of questions.

"Nice to meet you, Kamira," Connie starts. "So, how was life back in little old District 8? Any important people you left behind."

Time to start the sweet girl act. It is almost fool-proof. "I left my loving family. I miss them so much. They were and are the most important part of my life."

"The Games most have come as a huge shock to you? Any comments about that?"

"I don't know what to think about any of this, but I know for a fact I can do this. Or at least someone good can. So we have to put up a fighting chance right? I just hope no one is sad when these people die."

"What would you say is your greatest strength?"

"I believe it is my determination. I will not just lose. I want to get home and I don't want anyone to get in my way. I wouldn't choose to have anyone die, but it is what has to be done."

"Interesting stand point. Now, what would you say is your biggest threat?"

"Anyone would say the competition and it's true. But I will try not to be afraid of them. I am more afraid of the twists and turns involved."

"I'm sure everyone is. Anything else you would like to say?"

"I would just like to say to my family that I will see them soon and not to worry about me. I'm a fighter." My buzzer rings as I finish and Connie thanks me for the interview. I give the audience one last smile before leaving the stage. I receive a healthy round of applause that makes my smile wider.

Just give them what they want, that's all it takes.

**District 10: Lyli Hyerman's POV**

I take my time walking to the stage. I can make Connie wait. I don't want to waste time; I want to make an impression. When I finally reach the stage, I ignore Connie's hand in favor of flashing a rather sly smile at the audience. They eat it up, as usual.

I can hear a level of annoyance in Connie's voice, but she keeps calm. "Pleasure to meet you, Lyli Hyerman. Let's talk the Games. What is your strategy for how you will play?"

"I just plan to survive. Isn't that the best strategy? I think people get into trouble when they try to over think things. I believe it is just me against the Games and I plan to win."

"So you don't plan to make any allies?"

"I can take care or myself," I say in a cool tone. Connie doesn't seem to know how to take this which is just what I want.

"That is a beautiful dress," she compliments in order to change the subject. "Your stylist did a really good job." It is classic move, complimenting the stylist. All I am wearing is a basic black cocktail dress. Connie just must have run out of things to say.

"I hope I won't be wearing one in the arena, as beautiful as it is." This gets a small laugh from the audience. I wasn't going to go for the humor angle, but making the audience laugh at least once will strength my impression. I would make a better joke, but that might be taking it too far. Being that funny girl from 10 is not a good image going in. Who needs humor in this game?

"Who knows?" Connie says with a shrug. "Is there anything else you want to say to the audience or your District back home?"

"To the audience I want to say, don't count me out and to my District, I hope you like presents because you'll be getting lots when I come home."

The buzzer sounds as Connie thanks me for the interviews. I accept the large quantities of applause with faux modesty and I exit the stage with a slower pace then when I had come up. The interview was perfect. Now, all I have to do is win.

**District 5 Victor: Knox Overstreet's POV**

I guess you could call it a success.

The interviews, I mean. The audience got what they wanted and the tributes made their last contributions to their images. How useless it seems now though. Their thought process is to impress with their charm or wits. At this moment, very few of them are thinking about the fact that at least twenty two people with that charm and wit will be dying at another person's charm and wit. Useless.

District 14 was definitely the highlight though. The two will prove to be interesting. The boy was charming and exciting and will gain favor from the younger audience. The girl has an intelligent edge, one many older sponsors find appealing. I'll keep my eyes out for them.

District 11 and 12 were outshone this year. Usually, District 12 is the most interesting out of everyone, whether it is through legendary confessions or tragic back stories. 11 will be one to watch, but both seem to be hiding their true potential. 12 seems to have gone down from last year, though I don't know who could compete with the masterminds in 12 from my Games. Still, the boy is creepy to say the least.

But who cares? I will admit I don't. I don't even remember caring last year, when it was me up there. I think I made a good impression. Good enough it seems since I am standing here now. I shake my head at the thought that my winning was because of this Capitol show. I push through the bustling crowd and try to get to the Training Center with little injuries.

My plan is not successful when I bump into a Capitol girl on my way. I have the urge to cover my ears to block out her screams, but I wait a whole minute and nothing comes. I look down to see the girl trying to get up with people still pushing each other around her. I extend my hand down and help her up before she actually does yell.

"I'm sorry," I mumble quickly before beginning to walk away. I don't get very far when the girl comes right up next to me.

"It's okay. I'm surprised you helped me up. I'm Jazz by the way. You don't have to introduce yourself. You're Knox Overstreet, right?"

I look at Jazz again. She looks somewhat familiar, but I can't place where I have seen her before. I do know that I don't want to start a long discussion with this girl so I begin to walk faster around the crowd.

Jazz is faster than I thought and she is back next to me a second later. "I get it. You don't want to talk. I have wanted to talk to you though. Just don't give up okay. Bella will forgive you if you actually apologize. The Underground City won't solve all your problems. Good luck, Knox."

The girl finally walk away leaving me alone like I wanted before. But she also leaves me thinking about what I had said to Season and what Jazz just said to me. Maybe I can fix what happened between Bella and me. I change my course and manage to get into the building. I make sure no one is on my elevator and I push the third button. The elevator rockets up and lands on the third floor. No time to back out now.

I enter the third floor sitting area and walk as quietly as I can. It is not against the rules going to other floors, but it is not something people do. I enter the hallway and begin to call Bella's name in a whisper. But I stop when I hear her voice. She wasn't talking to me.

I turn around and bolt for the elevator. I knew it was too early to fix things. Only this time, it isn't my fault. Bella says I've changed. But now I know how she felt last year. People do have a tendency of letting you down.

…

**And so ends the interviews. Yes, Caesar is dead, but he would have had to die sometime and Capitol people do horrible things. Next is the last chapter before the Games and one of me favorite chapters to write. It is also the last place for major pre-arena character development before half of them go insane. Did anyone notice the outfit foreshadowing?**

**Also, thanks to VividlyVisceral and Eac12897 for nominating me in the Winter 2010 Hunger Games Awards! Reviews make me smile. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	12. Up on the Roof III

**Last chapter before the arena! It seems like this story has gone by so fast. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

…**...**

**District 3: Miles McCarthy's POV**

I suppose this is what the beginning of the end feels like. I feel like I have nowhere left to go, nothing left to think. I just know in the near future that it will be the end. Shiloh is the only thing now and getting her out alive is my only priority.

Yet, I still feel regrets. I don't think I regret entering. I think I regret giving up so quickly. I have decided my own fate, to die, but I feel like I don't want that as much as I think. Shiloh dying is hard to think about, but me dying is hard to mentally watch too. Will I sacrifice myself when the time comes?

I twist the knob on my bedroom door and find that it opens. I assumed the Capitol would lock us in on the last night as an extra precaution. I slip into the hall and tip-toe past my sister's door. I am almost past the creaky hallway when I collide with Bella.

"Can't sleep?" she asks while rubbing her nose. She smiles a sympathetic smile at me.

"I'm sorry for running into you," I mumble. I don't know why I find it so hard to talk to her. She went through what I will be going through to an extent. Maybe it is that she is still my age and she is supposed to be helping me get out alive. Maybe I feel bad about the fact I will be letting her down.

"I know what it feels like, the last night. I know it is almost impossible to sleep. I don't even think I did. I wish I could tell you it will get better, but..."

"It won't," I finish. "I kind of assumed it wouldn't. A good few of the kids will be gone by tomorrow. I wouldn't categorize that as better." She laughs at that, but it is a somber laugh. I see that look in her eye, the one all mentors get. It happens during interviews as well. She is having a flashback to her own Games.

"I guess I should give you a few last words of advice," Bella says as she comes back into focus. "I think you can get past the bloodbath with supplies, but don't take Shiloh in with you. Grab whatever you can and run. Find a place to hide. Don't fight unless you have to. Killing someone will change you more than you can ever imagine."

Her eyes cloud over again, but I doubt she is thinking of herself. She only killed one person last year and that was an accident. I don't have the same plan in mind, but I nod along. I need whatever she has to say.

"There is one last thing and this is the most important. Do not trust anyone. This game will turn anyone it a monster. People will lie, cheat, steal, and destroy just to live for one more game. I know. There will be villains and there will be heroes. But you will never know who is who until you're on the ground with a knife about to go into your chest. It is best not to look for the best in people because it will disappear the moment that gong sounds."

I gulp after she finishes. I know the Games are bad. Everyone knows they will bring out the worst in you. I just never heard someone say it so bluntly with so much truth to back it. "Thank you," I say softly. Bella does not say anything in response. Instead, she hugs me.

"Good luck, Miles," she whispers in my ear. My initial shock ends with that. I hug her back as well. I don't know if mentors are supposed to hug their tributes, but this is my last night anyway here anyway. I have nothing left to lose.

She pulls away slightly and looks into my eyes. I should have seen it coming, but I am still caught off guard when her lips touch mine. My mind yells at me to pull away, that I am getting in over my head now. But I don't. This is the beginning of the end. I might as well try to kiss the troubles away.

**District 2: Ben Valencia's POV**

"Is that the plan for sure?" Anna asks a bit restlessly. I thought she would be one to want everything laid out and perfect before she just jumps into it. I don't look into her eyes as I nod. I refuse to look into weaknesses.

"We get everything we need in the bloodbath and we take off. The Careers this year will be too scared to find us. We were the best of them anyhow. Their strongest player will be Marco, but he has too much ego to admit he has been betrayed. He will pretend we were never part of the pack and move on. Then we hold out until the number reach before double digits and we finish the game. It is a pretty simple plan."

"I have one suggestion," Anna says. I automatically plan a response to reject the idea. I despise people going against a plan or toying with it to make it to their liking. Plans amongst a group work for the group and should not be tailored to favor one person. "I want to add another person to our mix."

I don't respond right away. I want to hear who this addition would have been if I had been different and accepted. I feel her looking at me to ask who, but she seems to guess I won't talk until she tells me. "I want to add that boy from 11, Raze. He is strong and I think…"

"You never add things to perfect plan if you only think it will work. That is how things fall apart. Anyway, Raze is too much of a loner. He probably won't join on such short notice and if he did, he would bail when the going got tough. He seems like a decent guy, but not a decent ally," I explain.

"I was just…"

"Ruining the perfect balance I have created?"

"Trying to help. You can't do everything yourself, Ben. I know that truth hurts, but you have to learn that sometime," she snaps.

"It has been working for most of my life," I tell her in a cold tone. I work for myself. I thought I had made that clear. I don't respect people who rely on others. People our unreliable. I don't want to rely on Anna, even if she is my ally. I don't believe she will backstab me, but I don't want my life completely in her hands.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

I roll my eyes at her question. "If I hated you I would have teamed up with you," I say. "I do not hate you. I just hate people in general. They are arrogant and believe they are extremely clever. Logically, not everyone in this entire country can be clever…"

"Which means, logically, not everyone can be arrogant," Anna adds in to mock me. It is a fair counter-argument, so I chose to ignore it.

"As I was saying, not everybody can be clever, but most people think they are. People are unreliable because they only want what is best for themselves, not others. A person could be the nicest person in Panem, but if you throw them into the Hunger Games, they would fight for themselves."

"But that is exactly who you are!" she hisses with a large amount of contempt in her voice. I saw that comment coming after my little speech and I have an answer already mapped out.

"I never said I don't work for myself. But I work for myself because people are that way. If I can't rely on anybody, I must rely on myself. It is really simple if you think about it."

"Have you ever though that is how everyone else is?"

"That is just illogical," I tell her. I hear let out an angry sigh. I know she is one who wants to win everything she does so I know she is angry I beat her in our argument. So I don't poke the sleeping bear. Instead, I just say in a calm voice, "I don't want this to become another Career pack, okay."

Her response is not so calm and collected. "You are lucky you are a good fighter or else you would find another person fighting for herself and she would be fighting you."

Looks like I have made Anna an ally and a dangerous enemy. And logically, there is nothing I can do to fix it.

**District 8: Todd Halder's POV**

"So?" Sunday looks at me impatiently. She expects me to tell her all about the things I have found out about the Career pack. Though I hate telling people the whole truth, I need her to stay on my side for at least the first few days.

"The Career pack will be easier to destroy then we first thought. I overheard Anna and Ben talking about leaving the pack the first day. The other four don't stand a chance without 2's power behind them. So, I have a plan."

"Which is?" she asks, urging me to continue. I smile at how easy it is to string her along. I know I con people all the time, but this is just a little too simple. People will do anything to earn power and stay alive a little longer. Little does she know, but I have another ally on my side, for completely different purposes of course.

"We will wiggle our way into the pack. It won't be hard. They are looking for something to use for intimidation and to make kills for them so that they don't have to get their hands dirty to soon. We will provide that for them. We will also give them secrets to Anna and Ben's whereabouts. The boy from 1 will not let them just get away. They'll hunt them down and we will make all the kills."

"It sounds a bit risky," Sunday speculates. This throws me off guard. I thought she would eat the plan up immediately.

"How so?"

"The Careers don't let just anyone into the pack and certainly not on day one. It will be hard to get in. They might have blood on their hands after all and it will be ours. We need to think this through a bit more."

"I have done all the thinking for you, darling. I can be very persuasive when I want to be these people will be desperate. This is going to be simpler than you think. You are just over thinking this." This seems to tide her over. She nods at my explanation and even smirks slightly.

"I just have one question for you," she tells me. I make a small hand gesture for her to continue. "Why do you want to kill Anna?"

"Why do you?"

"The girl from District 2 killed my sister. I want to kill Anna and whatever happens after that just happens. Now answer my question." I could have guessed that was her reason behind killing Anna, but I don't want to get into my own. It might send Sunday way and that is not something I can have right now.

"It is a terrific tale. I might have to tell you sometime, but not now. Let us enjoy our last night together. I have been told I am a great kisser if that is something you would like to do." Even in the dim light, I see Sunday roll her eyes, but I also see a creeping blush. Another thing I see is dissatisfaction. She wants to know badly why I have stolen her kill. But that is just one thing that will keep her around.

I look out into the colorful night sky, lighted by the neon of the Capitol. It's a brightly lighted night. But it will be a red morning.

**District 12 Victor: Storm Loret's POV**

We don't talk. We are at the point where we don't need too. I never believed I could know someone so well as to being able to read their thoughts. I also never thought I would lose said person for a year and then not know what to say when she gives me another chance.

"This is where I first met Mimi, really met her as a person." That is the only thing that comes to my mind and I don't know why I would say it. This isn't Mimi standing next to me. It is Season and right now, I don't think I would give her up to have Mimi back. She looks at me for the first time and surprisingly doesn't look angry.

"Do you still really miss her?"

"I do miss her. You never forget the first person you really fall in love with. I think I have healed now after two years. I just feel I need to move on now. I have missed so many opportunities by mourning over her."

"It wouldn't have worked out for you two."

My head snaps in Season's direction with a clearly hurt look on my face, begging for an explanation. "Sorry, but it's true. She would have gone to District 1 and you to 12. You would see each other on the tour and here at the Games, but you would both have realized things about each other you didn't like. Your romance was a result of the Games. You used each other to take some of the pain away from what was happening to you. It was hollow love, not true love."

"Hollow love? What do you know about hollow love and true love?" My voice was harsh and cruel, but so was her evaluation of my and Mimi's romance. She has no idea how we felt about each other, none. However, I also feel like I am getting some of the real Season back. Still, the side she was giving me does not favor my feelings.

"I went through it too. I think I married my husband because I didn't want to be alone after what I had went through. I need someone to be there for me. That isn't me or at least it wasn't. I used someone like you and Mimi used each other. You need to stop pretending you were the exception to the rule. If Leif and Ever from last year made it out, they wouldn't have happened. I'm not saying it isn't love, it just isn't really real."

"Maybe it was that way for you, but it wasn't for me and Mimi."

"You knew her for a month, not a year. You didn't really know anything about her. I'm sure you didn't know she had an evil sister. I'm sure you didn't know her middle name or what she liked. I'm sorry, but this is the truth."

I start to argue again, but I silence myself. Season is making sense. It isn't sense I want to agree with, but it is pretty much true. I didn't know Mimi as well as I thought. I barely knew her at all. Was it hollow love? I don't ask Season that question though. I have another. "What does that make us?"

Season doesn't rush to respond, but thinks through her answer. "I wouldn't call what we have hollow love. I don't know what to call our relationship anymore. We were best friends, then we hated each other, and now we are somewhere in between."

"I don't know either," I admit. "I just know that I want to be with you again. I just don't know what relationship we can have now after everything."

"I need something Storm. I don't think I can just be your friend anymore. I don't think I can be your enemy or a distant acquaintance. I want there to be an us Storm. I don't know why, but I think that is the only thing we can be now."

"I…"

**Third Person**

The sun rises on the Capitol and streams into each tributes room. It is a beautiful sunrise, but it is wasted on the tributes. Today could very well be the day they die. The stylists come and wake them all and help them to the hovercraft. This is it.

This is the time for second guessing as the trackers are placed. The strategic ones rethink their plans while the weaker ones pray just live past the bloodbath and earn a shred a dignity. As the windows go black, the tributes wish the next light they will see won't be in an arena built for death.

The hovercraft arrives in the underground area and all the tributes go to their separate rooms. Breakfast is ready, but the tributes can barely digest it. They force themselves to. This will be their last good meal for a long time.

The packages from the Capitol our opened and out comes this year's arena outfit. And it is a surprise to all. The girls all have cocktail dresses completely with gloves and stockings. The boys have suits with ties. Each District has their own personal color that shows on the dresses and ties. It looks like they were all attending a Capitol party. Or maybe they were dressed for a date with death.

Finally, it is time. A few tributes give their stylists hugs good-bye, but many just board the plates that will take them to their destination. The plates all rise simultaneously and station themselves in the arena.

The light that shines in all the tributes' faces is not sunlight, but fluorescent light. The arena before them is a grand staircase that goes up to the left and right and ends in front of them. On the middle landing and the steps leading up to it are the supplies. The arena lurches slightly. The sound of water can be heard. The arena is a boat.

And so the sixty second begin.

Bliss crosses her fingers.

Marco eyes his perfect weapon.

Anna tries to catch Ben's eye.

Ben remains emotionless.

Shiloh lets out a small whimper.

Miles fears for the last time.

Camille hopes for the best.

Kantix says a silent prayer.

Katarina glances towards the ceiling.

Dexter keeps his teeth from chattering.

Cetera keeps her eyes on the prize.

Finn just holds his breath.

Sunday curls her fists.

Steam wishes to be anywhere, but here.

Kamira swallows hard.

Ian waits for the gong.

Almond dreams of winning.

Todd smirk grows a little wider.

Lyli tugs at her dress.

Raze calms his nerves.

Tawncy readies for the battle.

Arin hides any fear he has.

Vina tries not to look back.

Azrael bears his sharp teeth.

Astrid runs her final strategy.

Karter controls his urge to go before the time.

The gong sounds. The 78th Hunger Games have begun.

…

**I hope you liked it! I think it turned out pretty well, but on to more important things.**

**Sponsoring and all the rules is on the forum under everything arena with arena outfits and layout information. The only thing you have to do now is either list yourself as a floating sponsor or what tribute you will sponsor exclusively. You can sponsor your own tribute, but if someone else is sponsoring them already, considering sponsoring another.**

**Here is the first Capitol Question of the Day: Who has the makings for the best villain?**

**Reviews are loved! Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	13. Little Drops of Blood

**This is just a small chapter for bloodbath. I can never make good bloodbath chapters anyhow. So, enjoy and I hope I can get a longer chapter out soon.**

…**..**

**District 14: Karter Neandra's POV**

_Drip, drip, drip_

Droplets of blood roll of the stairs and puddle on the floor in a rhythmic pattern. I try to count the total dead, but I keep getting distracted by the sound of the blood on the stairs. I give up and look at Astrid. Her face looks normal, emotionless. Yet, I see a small glimmer in her eyes of disgust. Disgust or that she is somewhat disturbed by the scene before her.

The smell of death clings to the air now. No, not the smell of blood, but the smell of despair and desperation. I'm sure in an arena with no roof; the smell would just float away along with the souls of those killed. Here, however, the smell lingers as do the bodies and souls. You can almost see their last thoughts on their face along with their final screams. Some aren't screaming though. Some didn't even know what hit them.

"We should go," Astrid says quietly. I hear her gulp slightly, but I don' think it is from her disgust. I think she figured out during the first sixty seconds that an arena like this will allow sound to carry faster. At the moment, we are like sitting ducks.

I nod and give her smile. As usual, she doesn't return it. However, she doesn't make a face at me either. Maybe her smart mind has come to realize that she needs me. The minute I think it I realize the idea is doubtful. She is probably just tired of standing here staring death in the eyes.

Astrid looks in all directions we could possibly go. We could tip toe our way up the stairs around the dead bodies. We could head towards what looks to be a dark dining room. There is one more option on the other side of the dining room, but it is too dark to see it clearly.

_Drip, drip, drip_

The dripping is beginning to slow and I find myself craning to here it again. The silence around us is unbearable.

"_We should go this way."_

At first, I think I am hearing Astrid whispering. However, when I look at her she looks at me in confusion. "What?" she asks me. I crane my head to listen for the other voices again, hoping I was just imagining things.

"_Do you hear anybody?"_

"Astrid," I whisper very quietly, my voice shaking. She looks at me and I see her eyes roll a bit. "Did you hear that?" Her annoyed look goes back to being confused. She shakes her head and watches as I motion towards the dining room.

"_Did you hear that?"_

Astrid's eyes go wide and she quickly grabs hold of my wrist. In the next second, we are rocketing up the stairs, paying no mind to the dead around us. I hear the voices more clearly. I think they know someone is on the stairs, that someone being us.

Just as the footsteps are coming out the dining room, we have disappeared to the right of the stairs. I hear shouting which I assume means the Careers had been on our trail. But soon their voices are no more. The last sound I hear from the stairs area is the clock chiming. The dripping and the voices are gone. For now.

**The Capitol: Daze McNeely's POV**

I sit on the couch in the apartment, smashed between my mother and Roxlie. My head and body beg to be anywhere, but here. However, it is a tradition for the McNeely family to watch the bloodbath together. Though, we are not watching it at the correct time considering both my parents and Jazz had places to be while it was actually going on. Instead, my father has recorded it so there is no way I can get out of watching.

The TV flickers to life and the faces of twenty-six teenagers appear. The arena is a boat this year apparently. They are all facing a large staircase covered in all the toys they need to play the game. I love looking in all their eyes before they go. You see blood lust in the Careers' eyes while others seem to be pleading for someone to get them out of there. When the gong sounds, the race to the top begins.

The first death is not as brutal as some would like. I had expected it to come from the boy from 1. The boy, Marco I believe, took a sword and sent it into the boy from 8's stomach. The poor kid throw-up blood as his final contribution to the world. We watch as Marco twists the sword for good measure and rips it out of the boy's gut. He doesn't even clean it before he is leaping up the stairs two at a time.

The second death is the first to cause Roxlie to squirm. Anna from 2 picks up a sword even larger than Marco's and with one stroke, beheads the girl from 12. The head of the pretty, young girl tumbles down the stairs, landing at the feet of the boy from 11, who looks about ready to throw-up. The camera focus back in on Anna and the body of the decapitated girl. In a close-up, Anna doesn't smile at her first kill. She looks to be showing actual remorse.

There is no time to decipher what that means though. The camera flashes to the third death of the bloodbath. The boy from 12 has already managed to strangle the girl from 8. He lets the body drop to the ground before kneeling down beside it. It looks like he will pray for the girl, but instead he leans close to her neck and bites into it. Both Jazz and Roxlie scream in unison and even I am shivering.

I have a feeling the Capitol was not a fan of that moment and the camera angle is quickly changed to a death that has managing to be a bit more pleasant. A fight has begun between the girl from 10 and the girl from 4. The girl from 10 kicks a piece of wood free from the banister and uses it to send a blow to her enemy's head. The girl from ten turns her piece of wood towards the side with a sharper point and tries to shove it into 4's throat. Before she can, she girl coughs off blood on to 4. The boy from 4 stands above the two, a knife he had sent flying in the girl from 10's back.

By now, the bloodbath sight has almost cleared. The Careers are still fighting it out. Actually, only 1 and 4 it seems. The pair from 2 is nowhere to be found. Marco seems to have another fight on his hands for a small pack. However, the fight only lasts a few seconds. His sword strikes the girl from 6 right in the center of her neck. He slides it out with ease and the girl collapses on the landing on the landing first landing of the stairs. Marcos smirks and slides the backpack on to his shoulders.

Besides the Careers of 1 and 4, only the bodies are left on the grand staircase. I think the Careers have realized 2 is gone. This does not sit well with Marco. My father has to cover Roxlie's ears as Marco begins to swear like a viciously. I find the scene quite amusing actually. Still, I am not sponsoring a boy with that kind of temper.

The boy from 4 says something about leaving the massacre sight. Marco lashes out at him, but does gather his stuff to begin leaving. The others follow suit. Marco says something about finding 2 and the others nod in agreement, by doing so reluctantly. Marco storms towards a dining room setting. The girl from 4 follows quickly. The boy from 4 and the girl from 1 share a look before walking slowly after the other two.

The TV clicks off just as the shadow of two other tributes appear on the staircase. Roxlie wipes a few of her tears away and allows my father to walk her to be. This is the only time she allows him to ever. My mother and Jazz begin talking about the scene that had just seen. I grab the remote again and turn the TV back on. The Hunger Games cameras show the splintered Careers pack back in the staircase area. Marco looks even angrier than before.

If the bloodbath shows any sign of how this year's Hunger Games will be, I will be tuning in more often. I look back at the screen to see Marco letting his anger out towards the decaying bodies that have yet to be picked up. Yes, this will be an interesting year.

…**..**

**There you go the bloodbath. I will keep a list of the remaining tributes on the forum under the everything arena section.**

**I have decided the way I am going to do the arena this year. For the next few chapters, I will go in District order and shed some more light on their pasts. This will not be the format for all the chapters, but some. I promise there will still be action, but I want the arena to take a bit longer this year.**

**Reviews are loved. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.  
-Emma**


	14. No Time for Dancing

**District 1: Marco Von Erich's POV**

"I bet it was those District 2 traitors," I sneer towards the top of the stairs. I turn to look at the pack and I am yet again disappointed at who I see. With 2 gone all I am left with are two girls and a pretty wimpy looking boy. I needed 2. But they will pay dearly for this.

"I don't think 2 is that stupid," Kantix comments. "Returning to the scene that we had just left? They knew we were close by. It couldn't have been them." I curl my hands into fists, but I restrain myself from punching the boy. I need the boy. At the moment he is my best ally even though he doesn't look it.

"You never know with 2," I tell the group. "They are probably up to something. You've all seen what the District breeds. That is why we need to get them before they get us. This year District 2 is not making it close to the final eight, got it?" Camille nods first and Bliss joins in after a few bobs. Kantix looks solemn and doesn't make any movement to show he agrees. "What?"

"I just don't know if that is a smart idea. In the past, District 2 usually kills off all the other Careers. They are more powerful than all of us combined. I think it is better if we just let someone else take care of it. Or they will take care of it. They don't seem to get along very well." Now this Kantix boy is in real danger of getting punched. If there is one thing I can't stand, it is people coming in the way of people who should be calling the shots.

"We need to take care of 2. If we leave them alone, they will take out anyone in their path up to us. We can't let the traitors get farther than the rest of us," I say through gritted teeth. I snatch one of the packs being gripped by one of the dead and sling it over my one empty soldier. "Come on, we need to get moving. Just because we don't have 2 doesn't mean we are not Careers."

I let Camille and Bliss go before me. They each tighten their packs and walk back towards the dining room we had been in before the people on the stairs made an appearance. As they disappear in the darkness, I listen to hear if I can hear their voices. I can't which means they can't hear this

I grab the back of Kantix's jacket and pull him back. I pick him up by his front collar with ease and pin him to one of the marble pillars. "You ever challenge my decisions again and I will assure you that you will be taking care of 2 single handedly. They are tougher than all of us combined right?" I release his collar and laugh silently while I watch him catch his breath.

"I got you," Kantix says. "Just don't get us killed." He walks slowly toward the dark dining room, limping almost. Baby. I clench my fist for a third time at his comment. That boy was in serious danger. Thinking I will get us killed. If anything it is his attitude and weak nature that will get us killed.

I take one more look upstairs to make sure no one was spying. I hear and see nothing. Finally, I secure the two packs on my back and head towards my team. District 2 is dead.

**District 1: Bliss Honeycutt's POV**

The dining room creaks as we make our way across. The boat rocks and feel the little breakfast I swallowed before the Games coming back up. A boat arena will not do well for me. I push through the sickness and half run to keep up with Camille though she is only walking at a leisurely pace. I soon feel Kantix's presence next to me. He seems to be limping and short of breath. One can only assume Marco is to blame. He will be the death of us.

I begin to take a good look at our surroundings. Besides dining chairs and tables made of expensive woods, there is a beautiful wooden floor for dancing. It is perfect for dancing actually. I can imagine finely dressed men and women waltzing across it. Not Capitol people or District people, but people from before our time, people who could enjoy the dancing without their being some catch like a vicious game. The dance floor deserves to be somewhere far better. Besides, we have no time for dancing.

All my thoughts of the ballroom and dancing distract me and I bang my foot against one of the lavish chairs. I bite down hard on my lip, enough to draw blood. I feel Kantix's hand on the crook of my elbow to help me balance. Camille turns around and makes a face at me. "Do you want to let everyone know where we are?"

I hear the first sign of Marco, a small chuckle. It took him long enough to join us. I rub my foot and begin to realize how itchy it is. Probably just another symptom of the…

"…_cancer."_

_I practically choke on my own salvia as the doctor tells me the news. I grip the sides of my chair and try to control my now violent coughing. This can't be happening. I am only sixteen and I have cancer. I knew I was sick, but not this sick. How could this have happened?_

"_Shall I continue?" the doctor asks when my coughing subsides. I nod, but I don't know if I really want to hear it. "You have __Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. I'm not surprised you haven't noticed. The cancer causes painless swelling in you lymph nodes and in your case it is in your stomach. Did you think you were pregnant at any time?"_

_I shake my head, but it is a total lie. I had taken a pregnancy test about a month ago, but it was negative. I thought I was just having horrible cramps. It was cancer this whole time?_

"_Unfortunately, we have caught it very late. The swelling has already begun to put pressure on your intestines. We can do treatment if you can afford it, but you might not make it through that. You only have about a year to live."_

_I walk out of that office in total shock. I am sixteen. I have cancer. I have only a year to live and that is with treatment. I am going to be in the ground in a year. I can no longer deny this isn't happening to me._

_A little light bulb goes off in my head. I will ignore this until the Hunger Games come. Then I will volunteer. I will die about a month or two after anyhow. Why let another innocent girl die when my life is as good as gone? I smile at my perfectly thought out plan._

_As I push the cancer out of my mind, another thing dawns on me. I was supposed to be at Marco's house making a homemade dinner for his birthday. With the cancer far from my mind, I race to house as fast as I can. I make it there with at least an hour and a half to cook._

_It is only when I get started that I hear giggling coming from upstairs. Marco was supposed to be out with friends celebrating his sixteenth. I tip-toe upstairs and move toward Marco's room. The giggling and chuckling only gets louder. I push the door open slowly and gape the minute I see the sight before me._

_Marco and Silk Brimmington. My Marco and Silk Brimmington. And they don't even notice me. Before I can stop myself I blurt, "What the hell?"_

_Marco looks up at me, his once pretty face turning uglier and uglier to me. "It's over love. You knew you weren't the first; did you really think you'd be the last?"_

_I want to punch, kill him even. But I can't. Instead, I bolt out of his house with tears running down my cheeks. Leave it to Marco von Erich to make cancer seem not that bad._

"Are you okay, love?" Marco asks. I snap up immediately and narrow my eyes at him. The flashback reminded me how much I hate him. How could I be so stupid during training? At least I didn't let it get out of hand. "Do you need help?" He brushes Kantix's hand aside and tries to take my hand. I slap it away and push past Camille.

I have a new plan, one I will plan clearly later. Whatever happens, Marco von Erich is making it out of these Games in a coffin.

…

**The Careers aren't looking too good. Next up is Anna and Ben.**

**Capitol Question of the Day: Who do you think has the best chance of making it out of the Career pack alive?**

**Reviews are appreciated. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.  
-Emma**


	15. Benny

**District 2: Ben Valencia's POV**

"So what is your plan now," Anna sneers at me as we make our way through a dimly lit hallway. I pretend I didn't hear her and continue to peer into the cabins. They were clearly made for lower class citizens and had nothing worth anything inside them. "Don't pretend you can't hear me. I asked you what your next plan was since we made it out of the bloodbath with little supplies, assuming you have a plan. And no, I don't count looking through cheap cabins as a plan."

I roll my eyes before I turn to face her. "Fine, I don't have a plan. Is that what you want to hear?" I am not shocked when she smiles smugly in response. Now I have to wait for what I know is coming, Anna's plan. I'm sure it will lead us to certain death if I accept it, which I won't.

"Lucky for us, I have a plan," Anna says with a triumphant grin. She pauses to let me reject it before she says it, but she doesn't get a word from me. I want to at least hear this before crushing her little idea. "Why not screw the Careers even more by stealing all their supplies?"

"That's your plan? _That _is your plan?"

"Why are you acting like that is the funniest thing you have ever heard?" Anna asks, giving me a vicious glare. I don't answer her right away. My laughter prevents me from it.

"No, no, it's a great idea. You know, if you want to screw us rather than the Careers. Why not walk right back into the pack we worked so hard to separate from? I'm sure they would happily accept us traitors back," I say, still laughing slightly.

To my surprise, Anna doesn't try to slap or punch me. Instead, she looks somewhat hurt. I am furthered surprised at how well she can pull of this angle. I almost feel guilty for insulting her horribly thought out plan. Almost of course since the plan is ridiculous. "Look, I am not trying to insult you in any way, but that plan is never going to work and it will just get our faces up in the sky and our bodies shipped home in coffins."

I turn my back to her and start back down the hall. "That won't make daddy proud, will it?" I halt as I feel my blood run cold from her words. "Oh wait, daddy is already disappointed." I whip around, ready to punch the smirk right off her face. But I don't. I can't easily ask her how she knows all this with her bleeding on the ground.

"How. Do. You. Know. _That,_" I say, my breath becoming short and my teeth almost breaking from how hard I am biting down. Anna only smiles wider and shakes her head. "Answer me!"

"I was in training too. What, did you think no one knew about your daddy issues? It was the biggest joke in the Training Center. I'm surprised you, Mr. Know It All, didn't know about that," Anna says. My eyes widen in disbelief. Everyone really knew about my problems with my dad? I begin to feel faint from shock and I have to grip one of the pipes on the low ceiling for support. "Aw, is poor Benny going to cry?"

"_Benny, keep up! Felix wants to show us what will be his winning throw in the trails!" I don't pick up my pace a bit. I actually get slower. I refuse to respond to my mother when she calls me Benny. Quite frankly, I don't respond to my mother even when she calls me Ben. Not like she calls me on a regular basis. Mrs. Beauty Queen needs to sleep until noon then worry about turning Marcella into a miniature version of herself. She has no time for her fourth son, a failure in her husband's eyes anyhow._

"_His name is Ben, Lila," my older sister tells my mother bitterly. Jana's relationship with our mother is like my relationship with our father, on one side is disappointment and the other is silent anger. However, Jana takes more jabs at mother than I do at father. It's because it is easier to break a twig and nearly impossible to break a boulder._

"_I know my own son's name. Is his mother not allowed to call him pet names?" my mother asks in response. Jana just shakes her head and gives me an apologetic look. That is all I get though. Felix is at the knives station, clutching a knife in the worst way possible. I knew this was going to be a joke. Felix won't even get past the first round of Trails. He just wants to make sure father knows he is not a complete screw up like me._

_Felix throws his first knife and barely makes it on to the target. My mother still cheers while my father nods. It angers me a bit that he doesn't reprimand Felix for his horrid throw while he yells at me for everything I do just a hint wrong. "He isn't throwing it right," I mutter under my breath._

_I meant it to be just for myself, but as usual, my father hears. "You think you can do better kid," My father asks and then laughs like it was a hysterical joke. My mother laughs with him that encourages Felix to try again. He barely gets it on the board again._

"_Come one, son," my father says, but the comment was meant for encouragement. Felix throws again and this time misses the board entirely. I shake my head a bit. This is, again, picked up by my father. "You can shake your head all you want, kid. It won't make you better."_

"_Benny, just watch for once," my mother tells me as she smiles fondly at Felix._

"_Don't call me that," I say softly, my voice full of anger._

"_What was that?" my mother asks, shocked even though she didn't hear what I said. I refuse to look her in the eye and answer her stupid question. "Benny?"_

"_That isn't my name!" I snap. My hand curl into little balls, but I know hitting mother would be a bad idea. My father would take no time in seeing I don't see fourteen. Instead, I release my anger by grabbing a knife from my brother's stash and chucking it at the board. It hits perfectly in the center._

_My mother, brother, and sister gape at the board and at me, but I'm not looking at them. I am looking at my father dead in the eyes. He doesn't look proud. He doesn't look pleased or interested. But, he doesn't look disappointed. For once in his life, he is showing interest. _

_I hate it._

Anna is still looking at me, but she looks guilty for saying the things she did. "I'm really sorry, Ben. I didn't mean to say those things. I just hate when people think they are smarter or better than me."

I take a deep breath and regain my composure. I release the pipe that now looks slightly dented and nod at her apology. "It's okay. I'm sorry I laughed at you. You can make the plan. Just please not that one." Anna nods and I can see her brain try to work out a new idea. I motion for us to begin walking again and she follows.

I'm still not sure we are on the best of grounds, but I think we have put off killing each other for a bit longer. I think I need to keep her at arms distance though. Her back-handed remarks and deathly glares don't make her a great ally, but if I have learned anything, I don't need her interested in me.

**District 2: Anna Sinclair's POV**

"I know we just got past this, but this has the makings of being of very bad idea," Ben comments as we peer over on to the deck below us. The girl from 11 must have accidently dozed off on one of the chairs and has left her pack in an enemy's reach. However, this simple one step plan doesn't seem good enough for Ben.

I sigh and turn to Ben with a resentful look on my face. "Please grace me with all the reasons why you think this easier done than said plan is dangerous." Leave it to Ben to bring up something we just finished fighting about. I assumed this would be a rocky alliance, but I also assumed we had little more common sense than to push the other's buttons. I guess I am forgetting that Ben is only fifteen and doesn't know how to let things go.

"For one thing, this plan is not easier done than said, more than likely it is the other way around. Second, see that ball of light up there? Yeah, that's the sun and it will let everyone on this deck see us. Three, if she wakes, we are going to have to kill her, meaning a cannon goes off. That means the rest of the tributes will assume we were to blame being from District 2 and the Careers will have no trouble tracking us. And fourth…"

"I'm going to stop you right there," I say, hushing him with a wave of my hand. "Number one, this plan is easy. We go down and we grab the pack. Second, no one is on this deck. Because you know that sun you pointed out? It will allow us to see everyone. Third, she won't wake up. If she does, we will kill her. That is just a risk we have to take. I am assuming you are a fast runner. We can do this!"

"Fine," Ben mumbles. "I was just pointing out that you might not be thinking this all the way through with all the calculated risks."

"Come one," I snap, pulling him by his jacket collar down the upper deck's stairs. I release his jacket as we grow closer to the girl and her pack. Ben is still moving sheepishly along, so slow I am in fear of snapping at him to hurry up. I don't think Ben calculated himself as a risk.

We are barely breathing as we reach her. I place my hand on the pack and slip my arm through one of the straps. I jerk it upwards and slip it over my shoulders. The girl doesn't even stir. I begin walking back towards the stairs. Ben is quickly ahead of me, rushing to get away from the scene or our petty crime. I hear breath release a long breath when we reach the top where we had been before.

"See, we did it and no one got hurt," I say with a large smile at my success. I lift the pack up to admire my job well done. It is then that the silver parachute drops down. My face drops immediately. "We just stole a pack to have a gift drop down the next second? Really great use of our resources Season."

Ben picks up the parachute and the gift under it. It turns out to be just a tiny slip of paper. Ben unrolls it and reads. I crane my neck to see the writing on the paper. Ben prevents me from looking though. He finishes quickly and crumples it up despite my protests of wanting to read it. He simply tosses it over the rail of the deck. "Let's get going." He begins to walk towards the other side of the boat. I stick around to peer over the edge.

The girl from 11 is awake. She notices her pack has disappeared, but she is way more focused on the crumpled paper that had landed on her lap thanks to my District partner. She may be facing away from me, but I can tell she is smiling.

I consider telling Ben about his slip up, but I think about it and decide against it. If he threw it away, it must not have been important. And if it was, I can't be to blame. After all, he threw it on to our enemy.

…

**I hope I have shed some light on Ben because I feel he has been a little too mysterious. I am also starting to add a little suspense, but it might be awhile until someone is actually brutally murdered. Next up is Miles and Shiloh!**

**Capitol Question of the Day: Do you think Ben and Anna will end up working together or getting each other killed?**

**Reviews make my day. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.  
-Emma**


	16. Tea for Three

**District 3: Shiloh McCarthy's POV**

I've never been on a boat before. District 3 isn't the place for them. I don't see the appeal either. Yes, they can travel over the ocean, but I feel sick every time the boat rocks even slightly. Boats are nothing special in my opinion.

Miles and I have been exploring the boat deck for hours. I don't know what he wants to find, but we haven't quite found it. I think he wants supplies since we barely got any. You would think that such a big boat would have more stuff on it. That is another reason why boats aren't that great. Between the rocking and lack of supplies, I hope we can get off this boat as soon as possible.

"Miles," I whine. "I want to leave." It is a shallow request, even I know that. If we leave, that means everyone else has to die. But if we don't leave or can't leave, that means we die while one or two other kids leave. I wish it didn't make so much sense. Then it would be easier to handle. I think. Maybe it is a little complex.

"We can go under the deck in a few minutes," Miles says. I hear the impatience in his voice. After years of it, I thought he would be use to my occasional whining nature. I guess not. Or he is just impatient with the game. We aren't doing so well. The kids who took this one girl's supplies are though. District 2 can be very tricky or so I've heard. I tried to suggest acting more like them a little while ago, but Miles wouldn't have it. He said they are just leeches who don't know how to find things for themselves. Still, I would rather be a leech than die of hunger like…a not leech.

"I mean of the boat," I whine again. By his heavy sigh, I see Miles does not like my request at all. I think he already knows the thing that I don't really know: we have to let everyone else die to get off the boat. I think that means we have to kill people. Miles won't tell me about that part. Maybe that is why I am having trouble understanding.

Miles kneels down in front of me. He does this when he has to example serious things to me. I usually hate it because he acts like I am a child when he does this little talk, but I want him to explain at least one thing to me today. "Listen, Shiloh, in order to get off this boat, we need to win the game. In order to win the game, we need to find supplies. That is why we are looking around the deck. Do you understand?"

I scoff at the answer. "I _understand_ that part because it is the only part you will tell me. I want to know what happens past the supplies. I don't think getting supplies is on everyone's to do list at the moment. I think I can handle it. I am a part of this game too, you know."

Miles sighs a heavy sigh again. "You're right. You are part of this game. But I don't want you playing. If it were up to me, you wouldn't even be watching from the sidelines. I know you know how this game is played. This is kill or be killed. And you're right about the fact that people are trying to do that right now. Once we get the supplies, we will figure out how we will play from there. Is that enough explaining for you?"

I nod. "We don't want to end up like Transdetta."

"_Miles, you're hurting me," I complain as I try to squeeze my hand out of Miles death grip. We are sitting on our shabby couch, eyes glued to the TV set. The Hunger Games has consumed our lives at the moment. My sister, Transdetta, is playing and is currently on the screen now. I am silently cheering for her in my head. Miles won't let my cheer out loud. He says it will annoy the neighbors. It is really because he wants to hear every word out of everyone's lips._

"_Miles," Belinda says quietly. "Let go of Shiloh's hand." Miles release my hand and I smile gratefully at Belinda. She is the granddaughter of the old lady we live with. Miles and I treat her like a sister. Transdetta did. Or still does. I think the better word at the moment is did. Transdetta is being corner by the Careers._

_Belinda puts her arm around me and tries to cover my eyes, but I resist. "Climb," Miles yells at the TV. It is almost like she can hear him because she begins climbing fast up the large tree she had been pinned too. Miles is on the edge of his seat now as the Transdetta climbs._

_The girl from 4 is one her tail. She scales the tree almost as fast as Transdetta with a knife in her hand. My eyes widen as she closes in on Transdetta, but my sister manages to hoist herself up a little higher and out of the knife's reach. Belinda hasn't been breathing and Miles is about to drop on the floor. I remain optimistic. Nobody is a better climber than my sister._

_Then, she falls._

_She falls and she falls, slamming into branch after branch. The camera gets every crash and every crack as Transdetta makes her possibly deadly descent to the ground. Belinda tries to cover my eyes yet again, but I block the gesture as I had done last time. I watch as my sister meets the earth with an ear shattering thud. "Transdetta," I whisper. _

_Like with Miles, Transdetta seems to hear me. Her eyes flutter open as the flood with tears of pain. That fact that she is alive is not lost on the Careers. The girl from 2 picks up her sword and does not delay in plunging it into my sister's heart. Her hyena laugh fills my ears along with the sound of the cannon. More tears of pain our pouring out. They are mine._

"_No," I whisper. "No, no, no, no!"_

"_Belinda," Miles says in an eerily calm voice. "Take Shiloh to bed, please." I look into his eyes to see them filled with tears like mine. I look to Belinda and see the tears again. We have all felt the blow._

"_No!" I scream. Belinda tugs on my arm to get me up, but I resist. I feel my body jerk at even her slightest touch and my mind feels as if it is on fire. Never have I felt so much pain. I continue to scream, but not with words, but with shrieking sounds to match the laughter and cannon noise. I twist and jerk away from Belinda until Miles has to hoist me up and over his shoulder. _

_I punch at his back as he takes me down the hall. I hear the old lady trying to yell at Miles over my screaming. She wants me to stop immediately. I won't. I can't. It won't make Transdetta come back, but I can't stop trying. I scream until my lungs collapse. When that happens, my mind is forced to submit to the echoing of hyena like laughter._

I blink away a little tear at the memory and shake the sound of distant laughter from my head. Miles isn't looking at me anymore, but at the wooden deck of the ship. When he finally looks up, he can't meet my eyes. "No, we don't want to end up like…" He tries so hard to say. But I respect the fact that he can't.

"I think I understand," I admit quietly and try to pull my brother to his feet. He nods and stands up unassisted by me. "Let's look for supplies." I let Miles go ahead as I drag my feet behind me. Play the game, play the game, play the game. You have to do it until your life gives out.

**District 3: Miles McCarthy's POV**

I make a mental note to never let what happened on the deck happen again. It is dangerous to look back at the past. And now I know it is dangerous to look into the future as well. I have to keep Shiloh grounded in the present as much as I can. The present can't hurt her if I don't let it.

We have been walking inside now for about two hours. We explore mainly first class since I know it will please Shiloh. However, after two hours, Shiloh is getting restless again. I can tell by her continuing little sighs and louder footsteps. Finally, she begins to protest again. "First class has nothing. We should explore farther down."

I need to think of an excuse. I can't let her know I am afraid of the lower levels. The passages are too narrow. The rooms are too small. There is no likely escape down there, nowhere to run. It is safer up here, I am sure of it. "Um, I think we should stay up here. The supplies will be better up here and it is so much nicer as well."

"I think you mean the supplies would be better if there were supplies," Shiloh points out with a huff. "I think it will be better if we…" Shiloh trails off with a loud and delighted gasp. I hope I can take this as a good sign. "Look at the tea room!" Before I can stop her, she is running into a small parlor with a supreme view of the ocean. Inside is a small table with every square inch covered in fine foods and place settings. It looks like it was designed with the Capitol in mind.

"It is so beautiful," Shiloh says in awe. I nod, but I am a bit skeptical. Nothing this nice can be bought by a sponsor and the Capitol never sends things themselves without a catch. Shiloh is already at the table, not seated, but looking about ready to do so. First, she picks up the card on the plate awaiting food to heap on to it. She lets out a tiny squeal again. "This seat is reserved for me."

This can't be right. I walk cautiously over to the side of the table opposite Shiloh and pick up the white card. There, in delicate script, was the name Miles McCarthy. I drop the card carelessly back on the plate and observe the table more closely. "We should serve the tea first then pick out little desserts…" Shiloh has already gotten lost in planning a whole event for us. That is when I notice what is definitely off.

"There are three place settings," I mutter, looking over at the other setting of china. It was a perfect tea table. A tea table for three. Though a bit afraid to look, I step in front of the other set of china and pick up the white card.

"I believe that is my place setting." I drop the card back on to the plate and grab the first thing in my reach, a tiny saucer meant for the tea. I turn around and almost drop the saucer I grabbed. It is Transdetta. She looks exactly how I remembered, but something in her eyes isn't right, like they aren't even her eyes at all.

Shiloh doesn't run to hug our supposedly dead sister with a gleeful shriek. She runs to hug me with a terrified scream. I put my free hand on her shoulder and look Transdetta straight in her foreign eyes. "What are you-how are you here?" I ask as I try to remain calm for Shiloh.

"I've come back to help you," Transdetta says with a smile. Her voice is wrong too. It is too low, too raspy for Transdetta. "Can I help my own siblings?"

"You aren't my sister," Shiloh blurts out, tears brimming in her eyes. I nod along with her. "We don't need your help," she continues, stealing the words right out of my mouth.

"Fine," Transdetta says and the lets out a high-pitched cackle. "Why would I help District 3 losers anyway?" I pray that she will disappear, but she only grows closer. I hear the rattle behind me, but I refuse to look back. The rattling only gets worse and I feel the side of the table bang into my leg. I hear a cup shatter and I feel hot tea splash the back of my pants. It burns against my skin, but I hold in a scream.

More things behind us burst and shatter. Tea and cookies go here and there. I can feel the legs of the table beginning to give out. Before I can even yell anything, I push Shiloh away from me just as the table completely explodes and the saucer in my hand shatters into my skin in a million tiny pieces. The last thing I see is my dead sister's wicked grin before a large chair part sends me into darkness.

…**..**

**There you go! So, somebody pointed out that a message isn't really a gift. The note will be explained in later chapters, but it wasn't necessarily a gift. Kantix and Camille are on deck.**

**Capitol Question of the Day: What other surprises do you think the ship will hold?**

**Reviews would be wonderful. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.  
-Emma**


	17. Blood Red

**District 4: Kantix Kosmelt's POV**

After two hours of sitting in a slightly smoky parlor room, I am even bored with sighing from boredom. Camille and Marco still haven't gotten back from their scouting exhibition. I am literally dying of boredom. Bliss isn't fairing any better. While sitting in this room with her, I have picked up on the fact that she gets sea sick easily. I have seen her almost throw up at least four times. She tried to cover each time up with a casual cough that she blamed on the smoky atmosphere. I nodded each time and pretended not to know the truth. But now, we need something to talk about. "You get sea sick, don't you?"

Bliss looks at me and turns a shade of pink. "No, well, not really…yes. But I didn't know until today so I wasn't able to come up with a better cover-up. I'm sorry." I laugh at that which calms the flush on her face.

"I didn't assume the girl from 1 would have ever been on a boat so you don't have to apologize." Bliss nods her thanks, but this settles us back into uncomfortable silence for another five minutes. Counting the number of smoke clouds that appear out of nowhere again proves to be boring and I break our silence again. "You don't have to answer this since I may be prying, but what's up with you and Marco?"

She doesn't respond right away, but she doesn't look appalled at my asking either. She seems to be pondering it. "I don't know what we are or what's up with us, honestly. Sometimes I hate him and other times I feel almost in love with him again…"

"Again?"

"You don't want to hear that story," she tells me with a small smile.

"I think I kind of do, but you don't_ have_ to tell me," I say with a dramatic sigh in the middle.

"Well now I feel obligated to tell you, like you will die if I don't," she says with a larger smile after a small laugh.

"Die of boredom, yes."

"Fine," Bliss says and takes a deep breath. I guess it will be long. "We started dating when we were both fifteen. He was charming and sweet. We dated for about a year. It was his sixteenth birthday and I was making a wonderful, home-cooked meal in his kitchen when I heard noises from his bedroom. I went up to his room to find him with some slutty girl who was in our class. When I asked him what he was doing, he said to me I wasn't the first and asked me why I should think I would be the last. That was the end of our love affair."

"Wow." That is all I can say. Well, not really. "Isn't he the world's biggest asshole?"

Bliss laughs. "Yeah, he cheated on me and now he is bossing me around. And I still might have feelings for him. What is wrong with me?"

"Not what's wrong with you, but what is wrong with him. He is a by the book asshole. That is what the book says, cheat and lead violently. Of course, assholes can't read the book so…"

Bliss is laughing really hard now. I smile as well. I didn't really assume I would be laughing at all in this game. Of course, I didn't come in ready to give up my personality and just kill like Marco. I just didn't think I would find someone that could be a real ally. "Enough about me," Bliss says as her laughter dies down. "What about you? Do you have anyone special back home?"

"How long do we have?"

Bliss laughs a bit at this. "Well, it's Camille and Marco. They are either hooking up or they're dead so I think we have enough time. Come on, I just told you my very romantic story, spill yours."

"Well…"

_Red, an interesting choice of color for the room where I will be saying my final good-byes. I assume the Capitol is sending a message. Your child has almost no chance of escaping this and their blood is on your hands. It is your fault this is happening, your fault. _

_I know I am not going to cry. It is not because I want to seem tough for the audience. I want to be tough for my family. I need to prepare them to be strong. If I can. I don't have time to figure it out. My parents are being ushered in._

_It doesn't take more than two minutes to say good-bye to my parents. I love them, but they know there is someone more important I need to say good-bye to. My parents give me tearful farewells before they are taken out. I only have one more visitor. Kalela comes in, her eyes red from crying. I try to smile at her, but I am in danger of crying as well. The realization of how much I will miss her hits me hard the minute I meet her eyes._

_She doesn't run into my arms immediately. She speaks first. "I need to tell you something. It is the wrong time, but if I don't tell you, I might never…" She doesn't have the heart to finish, but I know what she means. This might be the last time we are together. I know exactly what she needs to say and it is what I need to say too. _

"_I like…"_

"_I lo…" We both trail of as we try to profess our feelings at the same time. "You go," I tell her. She wipes at way a tear that slips out and nods._

"_I like you, Kantix, a lot. I'm going to miss you so much." I have been dreaming of this moment all along, yet my heart breaks when I hear her words. She doesn't love me. She likes me, just likes. I should be relieved she even feels the feelings I have halfway. Somehow though, it isn't the same. The girl I am in love with isn't in the same place as me. And now she never will be._

_Now she runs into my arms. We kiss our first kiss and I do feel the spark I knew I would feel. But the fact that Kalela doesn't completely return my true feelings for her taunts me and the sparks that just occurred. What if no fireworks were going off in her head? What if…_

"She doesn't know you love her?" Bliss asks when I finished, a frown on her face.

"Well now she knows how I feel," I say as I motion to the many expertly hidden cameras in the room. Bliss shakes her head and continues to frown.

"You know that is not what I mean. Why didn't you tell her? Maybe she was afraid you weren't there yet and didn't want to say it without being sure," Bliss suggests.

Now I shake my head. "I saw it in her eyes. Maybe she didn't even like me really. The fact that I was leaving forever made her fall for me. Anyway, I wasn't going to embarrass myself by telling her if she didn't feel that way. I wasn't going to let the last time we were together be awkward."

"What are you talking about? That may not have been the last time you will see her. But if you act like that you will. Come on, you could kick Marco's ass if you wanted to," Bliss says with a reassuring smile. This only causes me to frown.

"You have a lot to live for. I'm sure you have a wonderful family and you will find someone far better than Marco when you get back…"

"Stop, you don't know that. Trust me; you have a lot more to live for than I do. I have no family to go back to and I don't think I can ever find someone. I don't even have a life after this if I do get out. I didn't come here to win."

"Why?" I ask, suddenly confused. I have heard tributes who say they have no family and nobody special. I have even heard tributes say they don't want to win. But I have never heard anyone say they don't have a life to get back to. I didn't peg Bliss as a girl who came into the arena for suicide. "What do you mean no life to get back to?"

"You can't tell any tribute about this, okay?" she asks me. I nod. I also didn't peg Bliss as a girl with a secret to hide. Well, it won't be a secret for long. The whole Capitol probably has their eyes glued to the screen. I bet people have already bet on what her secret is. But no one will be hearing this from me.

"I promise."

Bliss leans a little closer, maybe in hopes the Capitol won't pick it up. Of course, that is a fool's hope. The Capitol knows all. "I have cancer."

**District 4: Camille Booth's POV**

"Is this little mission over yet," I complain again, but it falls on deaf ears. Again. Marco is thirsty for blood. No one has died since the bloodbath this morning. Now it is almost nightfall and the lack of fights to the death is killing Marco. At least he makes frustration look hot. If not, I would have been gone by now.

"Patience, love, patience," Marco says to my complaint. "We have found evidence of tributes. I'm sure it is just a little further." I roll my eyes at his comment about evidence. Our "evidence" is a few bread crumbs we found thirty minutes ago. The trail ended when we left the room we found the crumbs in, but Marco is sure the bread droppers are around here somewhere.

I stomp my foot on the ground. My stomp rattles the nearby plants and causes Marco to turn around, the early stages of anger in his eyes. "What was that for," he asks through gritted teeth.

"We have been walking for two hours chasing nothing, but air. Give it up! It is over," I sneer at him. "We are going back now." Marco takes my information in before nodding.

"I agree, we haven't been very productive, but…" He comes in very close to me to whisper in my ear. "Want to get a few sponsors? How is that for productive?" I shiver as I feel his arms for around my waist. Finally, we are chasing something worth catching. I give him a smirk in response and push Marco softly into one of the walls. His lips land on mine and soon we are doing enough to get every pervert in the Capitol to sponsor us.

It is after five minutes of sponsor ensnaring when I hear it. The music. I pull away from Marco or more push him away when the soft melodies reach my ear. "Do you hear that?" I whisper, craning my neck to listen more closely. Marco stops breathing in order to hear, but soon nods. I straighten out my dress and he fixes his tie as we walk towards the music. We find it flowing out of the dining room we had left hours before.

It is not an empty room any longer. The tables are full of every delicacy the Capitol probably has to offer. The lights are all spreading a soft glow over the whole room. The music comes from thin air, a beautiful and full orchestra playing every note to perfection. Each chair is pulled out, expecting occupants. In the middle of the largest and grandest table, is a present wrapped in silver wrapping paper and a giant, blood red bow. It has the makings of the perfect party. Or the perfect massacre.

Marco's voice is in my ear. "The first feast has begun."

…**..**

**The first feast has begun. Next up are Kat and Dexter. Also, thank you for two hundred reviews! And another thing, I have been reading some stories and I came across a SOYC that let someone write a guest chapter. I thought that was pretty cool and I was wondering if any of you would be interested in writing a chapter for this story. It would actually be nice since I have finals week in a couple of weeks. Just put a comment in your review if you would consider doing it.**

**Capitol Question of the Day: Who do you think will come out of the feast victorious?**

**Reviews are appreciated. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.  
-Emma**


	18. Those Few Moments

**District 5: Dexter Hassleback's POV**

Raw.

It can describe two of the things I see before me right now. The hall's once mirror like floors are now drenched in blood despite the lack of cannons going off. The battle has been going on for at least ten minute without a single casualty. The battling must be fierce enough though for the Capitol for they have not interfered. Still, the gift with its shiny packaging and red bow still sits on the table amongst platters of food. That is the second thing, raw food. The Capitol must have thought that was hilarious. Not one tribute has even noticed.

I am laughing with the Capitol though. I feel amongst them at the moment. I have concealed myself behind a pillar and one of the larger plants. I do not want to rush into the battle. Any moment now a cannon will go off and it will not be my body hitting the floor. It isn't worth it…yet. I will just simply observe before making a decision about the feast. There will always be one tomorrow.

I must say, I have learned a lot already. The food for example. Not one tribute has thought to even touch the food. Sure, some might be under the impression it is poisoned and the Careers are much too busy battling it out to take notice to a valuable resource. However, the food looks perfectly edible despite its lack of cooking. I can't imagine it is much less valuable than the gift in the middle of the table everyone is so desperate to grab.

The boy from 1 is desperately fighting off the boy from 10. This battle interests me. I have seen little of the boy from 10 aside from the moment at training when the topic of racism was brought up. The two are evenly matched, but as the boy from 1's ego deflates so does his talent. The scale is teetering in 10's direction. However, the boy from 1 makes one final jab with his sword and hits the other in the thigh hard. I expect the boy from 10 to fall to the ground, but instead he manages to avoid the next blow and make a break for it. 1 knows better than to run after him and goes back to fighting for the gift.

The strangest part of this feast is the lack of 2. Neither the boy nor girl has made an appearance. I wouldn't expect to see the boy. He is smarter than that. The missing girl is the odd part. She seemed to be the type who couldn't resist a good battle for possession. Maybe I underestimated her slightly. However, the feast is still young.

Many others have shown up by now. I see both from 11 trying with all their might to claim the coveted prize. The boy from 6 and my District partner have shown up too. The boy from 9 is fighting the boy from 4 at the moment and his District partner is across the room hashing it out with the boy from 12. 7 is not here though. That is slightly disappointing considering the talent they had shown is previous years. It is more disappointing that 14 is not here. I wanted to see if the pair has any fighting chance. Tomorrow, I suppose.

I check the large clock above the staircase. The battle has been raging for twenty minutes without one death occurring. Blood has been spilled, yes, but not enough it seems. I feel now it is only a matter of time before the Capitol shows up and crashes the party with a mutt or two. How they have waited this long, I don't know.

An ear splitting cannon sounds through-out the hall and the boat rocks fiercely because of it. I lose my balance and fall over. I peer out to see I am not alone. Most of the tributes are on the ground, now covered in others blood besides their own. The ones who have not fallen only managed to stay standing by clutching on to chairs and table edges for dear life.

The next moment is full of confusion and shock. Many of the tributes are twisting their necks back and forth to find the tribute that hasn't risen to look around. Some begin to stand up, but are too disgusted by the blood on their backs to run for the weapons. I believe I am witnessing a rare thing, a moment in the arena where almost all the tributes are in the same room not trying to kill one another.

The Capitol and the Districts must be assuming the next moment will be filled with bloodier battling. They are so wrong. This moment that follows the confusion is one for the history books. And I get to witness every minute of it. The girl is a blur as she rockets across the dining room, passing tributes with ease. She barely slides when she hits blood covered regions. She reaches the table and snatches the present up before all the tributes eyes. She spins on her heels and rushes out of the room faster than it took for all the tributes to fall when the boat rocked.

The Capitol gift just got stolen by the young girl from 3. Isn't that priceless?

**District 5: Kat Peters's POV**

Who could even begin to register what just happened? Almost all of us tribute just fought what must have been one of the longest feasts in history just to have the gift be stolen by the tiny girl from 3 of all tributes? I can't help, but smile. I know the girl will do better with that gift than any of us would have. It is hard to hate such a little girl anyway. Though, I bet most of the people here are there at the moment.

"Wow," Finn whispers from next to me. "Who would have thought, right?" I nod along with Finn. We are both still on the ground. That is when the whole moment clicks and what will happen next. Suddenly I feel as if everyone is only a few precious feet away from each other and the whole room is covered in sharpened and ready weapons. We are all so vulnerable. But the minute one person gets up and grabs a weapon, this may be become a second bloodbath.

Some of the less tough tributes around us have realized what I have figured out in my mind. Soon, we are going to be sitting ducks. Most are scrambling to get out of the room. Many are succeeding as well. Finn is one of them. He grabs my wrist and pulls me up. He is frantically looking around for something, a weapon. I know we are far too weak without it, but looking for it is making us weak as well. I haven't felt this fearful since…

"_Well, it looks like you're pregnant, Miss. Peters," the doctor tells me. I feel my jaw drop, but I can't scream this away. I can't make a single noise to share my feelings anymore. Pregnant. I wish I could pretend I didn't know how this happened, but the memory is forever etched in my mind. I can't scream that away either._

_The doctor notes the fact I have not said anything. "Miss. Peters? Are you okay?" I swallow back my tears as I nod. "I know this must be coming as a shock to you. It comes as a shock to most young mothers. There are ways to take care of this if…"_

_My head immediately shakes at the motion. Just because I can't blame the men who did this to me, doesn't mean I can blame and take this out on my baby. My baby. Just like that, the idea settles in. This will be my baby, not anyone else's. I just hope I can be a mother. Can I be a mother?_

"_Miss. Peters, you are going to need to schedule some check-ups to make sure the baby is healthy. I would suggest more than the usual since you are so young. Can you afford this?" I nod my head. Whatever it takes, that is what I need to tell myself. "Well, I guess there will be a new baby girl or boy in District 5."_

_Baby boy. Please, don't let it be a baby boy._

I realize my eyes have been closed this whole time. They shoot open only to find Finn missing. I turn helplessly around to find him, but the next person's eyes I meet is not what I wanted it all. The boy from 1 looks at me with a sly smile and raises his knife.

"Kat!"

…**..**

**Capitol Question of the Day: Would you have gone for the expensive gift or gotten some of the raw food to cook later if you were at the feast?**

**Reviews are amazing. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.  
-Emma**


	19. Forget Me Not

**The Capitol: Jazz McNeely's POV**

Tristan's penthouse apartment smells strongly of alcohol and smoke. Normally, viewing parties are held at my place or Phoebe's town house, but my parents decided this is the one night they would stay home and bond with Roxlie and Phoebe is having her place renovated. Maybe it worked out for the best. Tristan lives alone and has all the access to the luxuries of the Capitol thanks to his parents' credit cards. Nothing says an arena feast like shrimp cocktails and flaming Alaska.

"Guys, I need to tell you something," Saylor says in a grim voice. None of us rush to hear what her problem is. Saylor always seems to have a weekly or sometimes daily issue. It is nothing new and nothing we really want to hear.

Phoebe has the courtesy still to ask what is wrong. "What's up Saylor?" She joins Saylor on Tristan's couch in front of his large TV. Tristan and I reluctantly join them, but Tristan is far more interested with what is happening on the screen.

"No way, someone finally died and they can't even find the person!" Tristan is always complaining about the lack of good camera work in the Games. If he wasn't so lazy, he would try to do it himself. Saylor lets out a large sigh and he grudgingly gives her his attention.

"I haven't gone on a date in like, two weeks," Saylor whines, dunking a shrimp in cocktail sauce. Phoebe and I share a look. It was typical of Saylor to complain about such a petty problem. Just two weeks ago, she was complaining about not being single. She had that boyfriend for a whole month though, impressive for any of us. Phoebe and I have too much work to do, Tristan prefers casual relationships, and Saylor is extremely picky.

"I know!" Phoebe squeals suddenly. Tristan waves his hand at her; his eyes now back on the feast. "Why don't you hire a victor for the night since you aren't looking for anything serious? It's worth a try, right?"

"I did that once," Tristan says, turning back to us. We wait for the story, but he soon gets distracted again by the TV. "The girl from 3 just jacked the gift!"

"Victors are so expensive," Saylor points out.

"That is only if they are really in demand," Phoebe counters. "The newbies are really cheap and not ruined yet. What about that boy from last year? The one that killed his girlfriend. He isn't terrible looking and he is totally available."

"Why do I feel like you have thought about doing this too?" I tease, but everyone in the room ignores me. I roll my eyes and watch the feast. Everyone is still confused over what just happened. The camera has settled on Marco, the boy from 1. He is extremely good-looking, but the anger in his eyes is all I need to lose interest.

"Isn't he a little young?" Saylor asks, being her usual, skeptical self. Both Phoebe and Tristan shake their heads.

"What is he, nineteen? Age is just a number," Phoebe comments.

"He is perfect for you. It is just for one night anyway," Tristan tells Saylor. Saylor gives them a small smile and nods slightly. I know she probably will back out of doing it, but I will let her toy with the idea. What is going on in the arena is much more interesting anyway.

"Tristan?"

"Yeah?"

"Who did you sponsor this year?" I ask, squinting my eyes slightly. The figures on the screen have becoming blurry as a fast and probably dramatic moment occurs. They will play it in slow motion in a minute though.

"I sponsored the boy from 6, Finn Darrenhall," he tells me, smiling at his choice. "Why?"

"He just got a knife in the shoulder."

**District 6: Finn Darrenhall's POV**

The feeling of pain ripples through my body at lightning speed. I hold back the urge to scream. I try not to cringe away as Kat tries to treat my wounds with the little amount of supplies we have, but even the slightest touch makes me feel like I am being stabbed again. I hold back the urge to scream. I need to be brave for Kat.

The sun is only just setting across the sea. I know this is a rare sight to see unless you like in District 4. Even in its beginning, it is just as beautiful as people say. I can't bring myself to enjoy it. The splashes of red streaking the sky only remind me of the blood seeping through my shirt. I never thought that my first sunset over the ocean would be my last. I never thought I would see one anyhow. I guess I should count myself lucky. However, pain takes away from my luck.

I meet Kat's eye for a brief moment when I tear my eyes away from the sun. Her eyes shine with pity and hints of love. Well, maybe just adoration. I look away immediately. The only thing I can express in my eyes is my feelings of loathing towards myself for everything I have done so far.

It was of course my idea to go into the feast. I knew Kat was objecting on the inside, but I had a yearning to try. I felt like I had something to prove. Now look where it has gotten me. I almost got Kat and I killed all to not have a gift in our hands. The worst of it is that I will never lose this need to prove myself in these Games. I could have this happen again…

I startle Kat when I jerk up on to my feet. My head is suddenly pounding. "I can't do this," I mutter to myself. I hear Kat get up behind me and I can image the confusion on her face. "I just can't do this. I can't."

"_You can't do this," my mother screams, kneel down next to my father on the floor. He is barely breathing now and I can only stand here and watch in shock. My father is about to die and all I can do is stand here. "Alec, don't do this to me!"_

_My father's breath becomes shallower, but his eyes are now open, staring at me. His hand weakly motions to me to come and I do as I am told. It is the least I can do. I kneel down next to my mother, near my father's head. He keeps his eyes trained on me as I do so. He waves me a little closer to whisper something to me._

"_Take care of you mother," he whispers. I nod to this and begin to pull away. His breath is fading as my mother's howling becomes louder. "And Finn, I know you can make me proud. Just never let someone get in the way of what you need to accomplish. I know…" _

_My father stops mid-sentence, his mouth handing slightly open. I notice the blood dripping from his nose and the coldness of his hands. My mother shrieks in horror, as if this whole time she thought he would just spring back up and declare he was only joking. Doesn't she know her husband never jokes? I glance into my father's lifeless brown eyes one last time before gently closing them.I can no longer take looking at him. I prepare to stand and alert others to come help me bury him when my mother ensnares my wrist._

"_Never fall in love, Finn," she chokes out through her sobs. "All they will do is leave you!" My mother continues to sob and scream over my father's body. I stand up, but I do not leave immediately to get some help. I need to process both my father and mother's words. Don't let people get in the way. Never fall in love. _

_Never._

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore Kat. We are too different. I am going to keeping wanting to go to the feasts and it is too dangerous for you. I think we should just call it a day." I turn just a slightly to get a look at her face. But I didn't realize how hurt she would look. "Just hide out for awhile. I just…" I can't look anymore. I turn back around and begin to walk.

"No."

My eyes widen in absolute shock at the wavering voice that comes from behind me. Despite my decision to leave, I feel I must turn back around and I do. "No," Kat says again in her shaky voice, shaking her head slightly. She still looks extremely hurt, but she also has taken on a new look of determination to make me stay.

"Look, Kat, this is what is best for both of us…"

"This isn't for me, Finn. This is for you," Kat says, her voice not shaking any more. "You are too scared of what will happen to you if you stay with me. Maybe you are afraid of commitment or dying, but whatever it is, you are just running away. You're a coward."

"I'm not a…" I stop myself before I can argue. Am I a coward? All my life I thought I was being strong, like when I helped my mother after my father died. I never thought I ran away from anything. Has it all been an allusion? Is this about me after all? I look at Kat with one little tear rolling down her cheek. I open my mouth to speak again and find I can only say one thing. "I really am sorry."

The only thing left to do is turn around and walk away into the sunset. I always thought this would be a more glorious moment. Now the only thing keeping me moving towards this moment is the grim fact I don't have the luxury to turn back around.

…**..**

**I know you probably all hate Finn now, but I'm going to stick up for him. Not every boy can be Prince Charming and do everything perfectly. What Finn did is what a lot of people would do. He needs to figure his own problems out before he tries to help Kat with hers.**

**Anyway, thanks for the great responses for the guest chapter. It starts today and you have about three weeks to complete it, but you can turn it in at any time. You need to establish a connection with me on DocX and this is how I will know who has entered. Your chapter must include the following things:**

**Length: As long as it is over one thousand words, any length is fine.**

**POVs: You can do it in first or third person. Whichever you choose, you must use Raze Tanner in a part of it along with a flashback for him. His profile is on the We Live As We Die Forum. Besides that, you can use any tribute, victor, or anyone else available. I would suggest using a tribute you are indifferent to if you want to use a tribute to make it fair.**

**What You Can't Do: No one can die. There will be a death is the previous chapter. Finn cannot come back. The last thing will be in happen in the next chapter and I will point it out.**

**What You Can Do: Anything else really. Make your own mutts, injure someone, use one of the romances, make a new romance, create enemies, etc. This is your chapter so do what you want with it.**

**I will decide the winner at the end of the three weeks. If you have any more questions, put it in a review and I will answer through PM. Good luck!**

**Capitol Question of the Day: Do you think Finn's choice was selfish or understandable?**

**Reviews make my day. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.  
-Emma **


	20. Isolation

**District 7: Sunday Lancast's POV**

"_Average, Lancast, average at best," Ross Hallen sneers at me and my almost flawless shot. It only missed the target by a millimeter and that is an exaggeration. Of course, perfection is the only thing that matters to Ross. It had to be on in the center of the red or it was an embarrassing miss. "What if that happens in the arena, you missing by that much? That will give the person you were shooting at the prime opportunity to take you out. You need focus."_

_I think of many vile and threatening things to say to Ross, but I keep them to myself like I have been doing for the time we have worked together. I believe our partnership walks on a thin line. We both have a mutual hatred for each other, but he can show this feeling at will while I am forced to keep quiet at risk of losing him and his abilities. Ross is the only boy is District 7 who takes the Games as more than a funeral for twenty-three or twenty-two kids. He is also the only boy in District 7 who knows how to handle a weapon._

_It has been a little less than a year since he started helping me train. After my sister died, I watched my pleasant little life crumble in front of me. Suddenly, avenging my sister's death was the only important aspect of my life. Ross mocked me for it, but he also agreed to help me carry out my goal with payment of course. Having to spend everyday with him isn't a picnic, but it is better than going into the arena blind._

_I pick up another knife and take a shot. Now it is noticeably bad and barely in the red. I see Ross roll his eyes and cross his arms, a clear sign that he is aggravated. People not doing as he instructs is a pet peeve of Ross's. He doesn't say anything this time and waits for me to get another weapon. I do and this time my shot looks perfect again. At least perfect enough for Ross to relax slightly._

_He walks over and takes his knife from my hands. "It looks like you are as good as you are going to get, I suppose. There is not much else I can do with the Reaping tomorrow. You have been my best student Lancast." I look at him skeptically. Ross has never given me anything close to a compliment before and calling me his best student does not sound very insulting. "Of course, you're the only person I have ever taught."_

_I nod and roll my eyes. It was stupid of me to think Ross would ever compliment me. Even at fourteen, he still knows how to build someone up then tear them down in a matter of minutes. Still, he has helped me more than he knows. The idea is only now settling in my mind that I am going to volunteer tomorrow and I will most likely never see Ross or this place again. I don't know which I will not miss more._

_The idea of volunteering and being in the Games doesn't scare me as it had a few months ago, but one thing still makes me feel uneasy about the whole thing, something the old Sunday would be objective to doing. "Will it make me a bad person, killing someone?" I ask Ross. I regret the question the minute I'm going asking as Ross begins to chuckle._

"_Of course it will," Ross answers with a smile on his face. "Don't you wonder why I have never volunteered? I still don't even see why you're doing it. You'll be dead before the first few days are over."_

"_Why is that?" I ask through gritted teeth. I believe Ross has been waiting for my worries to finally show and I have been waiting for him to tell me why he doesn't think I will win. I know I won't, but it is good to here a second opinion._

_Ross begins to laugh again. "Because you do everything you're told, more so since you changed into a fighting machine. Every time I told you to do something, no matter how ridiculous, you'd do it. You have a great shot, but whenever I told you to make it better you would try your hardest to do so. In the arena, someone could tell you to stand still and you would happily oblige. I can't believe you don't even know it about yourself."_

_He has been testing me this whole time. I knew Ross could sink low, but he has basically been playing me this whole time for money and a few laughs. "You know Ross; there is something I have been wanting to give you since we started." I lean in slightly and Ross follows, wanting whatever I have to give him. I lean a bit more and then spit at his feet. He snaps up with a look of disgust on his face. "I told you I spit on the ground you walk on."_

_I turn my back and start walking away, only slightly worried Ross will catch up to me. "You won't last a week Sunday!" he yells at me. I just shake my head and keep walking, finally feeling a bit of power over Ross._

"Well aren't you king of the world," I say sarcastically to Todd who is at the very front of the ship and leaning a bit over the railing. I haven't seen him all day and as night begins to fall, I feel a bit uneasy. My curiosity is killing me and now I have to ask, "Where have you been?" Todd steps back a little and turns to me.

"I had some things to take care of. You were absent from the feast," he remarks. I feel my blood start to boil. It is so like him to bring my question right back to me. Never answering anything and expecting me to share my life story, he is just like Ross. I hate to feel so intimidated with tons of anger building inside me.

"I thought it wasn't worth it, okay," I snap, my patience breaking. "You didn't directly answer my question. Where the hell where you all day? I thought allies were supposed to stick together or are you backing out?"

Todd smiles and shakes his head at me. "Oh Sunday, always so over-dramatic. Why would I back out of our alliance? What good would that do either of us? Just the same as me telling you the long boring details of what I have been doing won't do anything for you. Now as wonderful as our little catch-up time had been, I have to go. You know, people to trick and supplies to borrow. Why don't you stay here?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "Or I can come with you. Allies are also supposed to help one another, right?"

"I agree completely, but deceiving is a tricky craft and only one a skilled professional can carry out properly. I should be back soon. Why don't you watch our supplies?" Before I can object again, he drops his backpack and disappears in the darkness, leaving me alone again. I sigh bitterly and drop my own pack. I sit down and put my head in my hands. I don't cry, I will never cry, but I do mutter incoherent words to myself.

"_-everything you're told."_

Ross's voice rings in my ears as well as the image of Todd and his belief I am completely useless. I take my head out of my hands and stand up. I only bother taking my own pack with me and leave Todd's behind. Proving Ross and Todd wrong will be difficult, but I think I'm up for the challenge. After all, allies today will be gone by tomorrow.

**District 7: Steam Trace**

I can't help, but admire the pair from District 14 as I watch them on the deck below. The two have worked out a pretty sturdy alliance. They are less than friendly with each other, going as far as the girl being slightly cruel with the boy. However, they work well together and really do rely on each other. At the moment, the girl is taking her shift as guard while the boy dozes off on one of the deck chairs. The girl shrugs her shoulders uncomfortably and stifles a yawn. Though I know she knows it is against her better judgment, she leans back against her partner, who is now fast asleep. I let the two enjoy the brief moment, remembering what is like being with Jasper, before drop a bit of bread on the girl's cheek. I want them to stick around for awhile.

I duck away from the ledge for I'm sure by now the girl has regained focus and is looking for the person who dropped the piece of bread. By the looks of the girl, I would be dead before I could even get out a sentence of my explanation. I walk away from them and towards the front of the ship where I happen upon the control room. I test the knob and find the room is open I walk inside, but cautiously. This could be a Capitol trap or even a tribute one.

I relax, though not completely, when nothing immediately pops out at me. I walk further into the room and observe some of the equipment. It looks like the person in this room could control the ship, but I doubt a tribute could tamper with it. The Capitol is too smart to let that happen. A tribute might crash it into an iceberg or something.

"Cool, isn't it?" a small voice says. I whip around to see my own District partner, Sunday, standing in the doorway. She had no pack and there is no sign of a weapon. She looks lost, scared, and more like a thirteen year old than she has in a long time. It is a surprise to see her. I haven't said more than two words to her since we got to the Capitol and I never considered allying with her. I wonder who she has allied with.

"Um, how are you?" It is the only thing I can think to say. I don't know the first thing about this girl beside the fact her sister died last year and she is rumored to be kind of crazy. Her lack of weapons is a good sign, but I don't want to find out she has one hidden.

Sunday suddenly breaks into loud sobs and I am in between putting my hand over her mouth and comforting her. Just like the girl from 14, I ignore my better judgment and go to put my arm around her. She is still crying, but now it is only soft whimpers. I don't really know what to do now, but let her finish crying. "There, um, there." I am careful not to let this girl steal all my attention. We are now sitting ducks and there is no way to get out of this room if an enemy comes in.

"I don't have anything," she says in a raspy whisper. "I have no one to help me. I have no supplies. I'm going to die, going to die." Her crying begins to grow in volume again and quickly drop my pack and my arm from her shoulder. I rummage through my pack quickly and pull out a piece of cloth I rip from my extra shirt and a small piece of bread that helped my hit the girl in the cheek before.

"Here you go," I say, pushing them into her two tiny hands. For some reason, she begins to cry more. Sunday uses the piece of cloth to wipe her puffy, red eyes, but doesn't eat the bread. Instead, she throws the soggy cloth to the ground and throws her arms around me. My body becomes tense and I don't return her gesture.

"Steam," she whispers in my ear in a now clearer voice. I notice one of her arms is no longer wrapped around my neck. "You are so stupid." I don't even catch the whole sentence when I feel a bony fist hit me right in the middle of my stomach. I stumble back in pain and nearly fall to the ground. I hear Sunday now laugh in almost a maniacal way and helplessly watch as she swings her pack around her shoulder. She races out the door and slams it closed. She runs by the large glass and grabs another pack, her own. She gives me a small wave and a toothy grin before running off.

As soon as the pain in my stomach subsides, I am at the door, yanking it with all my might. It won't budge a bit. I am having trouble believing the door locks on the outside, but all evidence points to that fact. Sunday wouldn't have had time to jam it. I try the door a few more times, but it is utterly hopeless. My attention turns to the glass window.

The window stretches across the whole top of the front wall and gives a good view of the ocean before the ship and the deck. I tap on it lightly, than harder. The glass is thick, so thick that if I broke it myself, I would most likely bleed to death. It would be pointless trying to break it with something in the room. Almost everything is stuck to the floor and the things that aren't are too heavy for me to lift by myself.

I find myself going to the far corner of the small room, besides some machinery and a wall. I sink down and bring my knees to my chest. I tell my self it is so passing tributes won't seen me, but I think it is my body's way of telling me it is giving up. After only ten minutes of trying to think of a plan, I am reducing to tears, thinking of only how I have let down Jasper.

…

**Sorry this chapter isn't that great, but I just finished finals week and I am a bit brain dead. Anyway, remember, guest chapters our due in about a week and a half. The rules are on the previous chapter. The event above is also the third thing you can't change.**

**Capitol Question of the Day: Sunday: evil genius or creepy psycho?**

**Reviews would be lovely. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma **


	21. Into the Flames

**District 9: Todd Halder's POV**

I stomp my way back to the front end of the ship in frustration. I find it impossible that I couldn't find anyone to get rid of, but it is like something has put a layer of silence over the ship. Not a soul could be found anywhere on the deck. Now I have to listen to my ally's complaints for the rest of the night. These Games haven't been very productive for me thus far.

I reach where I had last left Sunday to find her standing with her pack on her shoulders and another pack in her hand, holding out in front. My own pack is still lying on the floor where I had left it, untouched. My eyes search Sunday for an explanation. She lets the extra pack drop from her grip and I cringe a bit when it clatters against the deck loudly.

"Do you still think I can't deceive?" she asks in mockingly sweet tone. I notice her eyes are a bit red in the glow of the ship's deck lights. The light and the red tones make her dark eyes even more cruel looking than usual. The eyes cause my stomach to drop slightly; as if for the first time I am actually afraid of this girl. She gives me a sly smirk before drawing a bit closer.

I try to make my large swallow unnoticeable. "Where did you get that?"

"Nowhere that concerns you," she sneers, losing her nice voice for a crueler tone. Her eyes and now her smile show her fury. I never knew a thirteen year old could be so frightening, but she will have to try a bit harder to get me to show I am actually a bit scared for my well thought out plan's well being.

"I see what you're doing here. If I apologize, will you drop the act?" I ask, give her a grin of my own. She doesn't return it. "Fine, I'm sorry I said you weren't skilled enough to trick people. I see now you obviously are. Happy?" Sunday only crosses her arms and takes a few steps back. She grabs the stolen pack from the floor before returning to where she had been.

"I'm dumping you."

My eyes grow wider than I ever thought possible and I momentarily let myself look and sound bewildered. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Sunday says with her faux sweet tone back. "I'm dumping you. This alliance is worth nothing to me and it seems to be the same with you. I don't see why I should waste my time with someone who doesn't care anyway." She draws a bit closer to me and smiles when she sees my confusion and maybe even a bit of fear. Things weren't supposed to work out this way. She comes even closer, close enough to whisper in my ear. "I would kill you now, but I still have enough respect for how you play the game to let you keep playing for a little while longer. But the next time I see you, the knife in my jacket will go straight into the place where your heart should be."

Sunday backs away, giving me one more triumphant smile before turning her back to me. The sound of her footsteps echo in my ears. I feel it is as if she is shattering everything I had worked out before the Games by just leaving. One pebbles falling really can start an avalanche.

I wipe the beads of sweat that had appeared during Sunday's killing speech and I walk to pick up my own pack. I suppose I now have nowhere to go, but up from here though I still feel I have so many miles left to fall before things pick up for me. I guess when you think everything is going in your favor, someone has to come along and ruin the balance.

"_Yes, I'm breaking-up with you. I think this is better for both of us. We just aren't good together. I'm really sorry Todd," Amber says before walking out my store's door. I make sure to slam it quickly as she does so. I sigh in aggravation and relief. I never like to stick with girls long, but there nothing I hate more than when a girl beats me to the break-up speech._

"_Did Amber just bruise your pride?" Keeley jokes_ _from the counter next to my brother. Nash laughs with her, but the two both stop when I glare at them. I walk over to the counter and jump up to sit on it. I sigh again, this time with very little relief._

"_Just because she broke up with you doesn't mean you are any less of a ladies man, big brother," Nash reassures me, but it doesn't help at all. I have had one or two girls break up with me before I got the chance, but it is the way Amber just said that is driving me crazy. She said a simple three sentences then left without even a sympathetic hug or just a pat on the arm. That is how I do it. I shouldn't be getting my own treatment back._

"_What are you going to do Todd?" Keeley asks me and without looking, I know she rolled her eyes. Though Keeley doesn't mind me, she finds my scheming ways and cold manner annoying and she isn't afraid to show it. I don't mind that she finds it annoying, I just hate when my brother takes her side over it._

"_The next time her dad walks in her, he is going out with the whole store's inventory," I tell the pair. Nash chuckles at this, but Keeley only shakes her head. "What? No one dumps Todd Halder and gets away with it."_

With a new surge of confidence, I swing my pack on to my shoulder and start on the path farthest from where Sunday had gone. She will regret what she did, but not yet. The best kind of revenge is the type that leaves everybody speechless.

**District 9: Almond Willow's POV**

The atmosphere of the boiler room is heavy in more ways the one. The muggy air and heat cling to me alongside the dress I was forced to wear. The sounds of fire and machine rattling roars over the small patter of my heels. It is not a perfect environment, but it is an ideal place to hide for awhile. Though I don't have a pack or a weapon, I managed to get a small amount of food and water. It should last me a few more days.

It has been two days without one cannon to be heard. I'm sure the Capitol is getting restless for blood and gore. That is why hiding is the best option. Though it may seem like I am taking the easy way out, I feel I have to avoid the eye of my competitors for now. Some of them are restless for blood as well and it is better someone else be caught than me. It is cruel of me to say, but I have to win. I just have to.

I find an area in a dark corner that is not as hot and I make my camp there with what little I have. The heat isn't unbearable, but I can tell it will be an uncomfortable next few days. I break a piece off of one of my two small loaves of bread and eat. I have been avoiding all meals, but dinner and my hunger has never felt so severe. Is that a sign of fear?

A few hours have past now and the heat is now killing me. I would leave if it weren't for my exhaustion. I will leave right after I sleep. That is the last thing I think before I feel my eyelids closing and I am asleep.

It is a few hours later when my eyes fly open. The sounds aren't right. The fire is still roaring, the machines still rattling, but the lighter sound of pounding metal hasn't been present until now. Someone is here with me.

I don't bother gathering my stuff. I leave the corner for it will be too easy for the other tribute or tributes to trap me. I duck into one of the many rows of boilers, all seeming to be forcing their heat on to me. I am careful with my steps. If I can hear the pounding metal even over the loud noise, so can the person down here with me. I try to watch both behind me and in front of me and I try to inch closer to the door back up to third class. I peer over my shoulder again, feeling more relief as I become closer and closer to my goal. I turn back ahead and my eyes lock eyes with him, the boy from 12.

"I thought someone else was down here," he says in smooth and casual voice. I swallow hard and I feel my feet dragging me back towards where I had come from. I pray there is another way out, somewhere to run to. I have heard the rumors along with everyone else. I've seen them proven true. This boy is a mental case and cold-blooded killer. For once, I am not afraid of looking weak in front of the Capitol. I think being in the same vicinity as this boy earns me the right to look terrified.

"What do you want?"

The boy shakes his head and laughs a high-pitched chuckle. "Why would you assume I want something? Maybe I am just merely exploring the ship hoping to find some supplies. But now that you brought it up, maybe we can be friends, _allies_." I realize he has been moving closer and we are now a few precious feet away. My feet no longer slide back slowly, but take large strides backwards.

Trying to force my voice not to shake, I answer, "No, I don't want to be allies. I'm doing fine on my own. Now, I'll just be on my way." The heels will give me a disadvantage when running, but he has no weapons that can be seen and I have never been a horrible runner. I just need to choose the right moment. Timing could be everything.

"But we could have so much fun." The distance between us is almost gone and I fear I have lost any opportunity to run. My choice had been fight or flight and now I have to fight. My fingers curl into fists and wait for him to make the first move.

"I doubt that. Now leave," I snap, but my wavering voice gives my panic away. He notices it easily and his arm reaches out, his hand ensnaring my wrist. I know I should hit or even struggle, but my hands are shaking and I feel my legs go numb.

"Why do girls have to be such killjoys?" I feel his sharp nails digging into my skin and my lip quivers slightly. My thoughts are running a mile a second, looking for option anything. To my left there are more boilers and no visible way of escaping. To the fight is the door, but it would be too simple for the boy to catch me. Behind me is an open boiler, the flames leaping out nearing me. And in front, there is only one way. I take it.

I use my left leg to kick him in the shin and he lets out a yelp of pain. His grip on my wrist loosens enough for me to be able to yank it free. I do so, but I trip and my heels don't allow me to regain my balance quick enough.

I fall. I fall straight back, back into the fires. I find the pain is tremendous, but quick. There is nothing I can do. I am consumed by the flames.

…

**I actually liked how this chapter turned out. Only four more Districts of Games' POVs before anyone goes.**

**Capitol Question of the Day: What character (besides your own) is your favorite at this point and why?**

**Reviews are lovely. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	22. Monsters Under Your Bed

**District 11: Tawncy Moriatri**

I don't know what it is like to be a child. My childhood was not filled with adoring parents doting on me. My childhood was work. I feel at the moment I am the closet I will ever be to knowing the feeling of being a child. The vulnerability and fear in me has grown over the past two days to the point of almost controlling me.

I know I am no one's pick to win. It doesn't surprise me. When people look at me, they see a weak and scared little girl. I used to not care because when people got to know me, that perception went away. In this place, it is different. I can no longer prove my dominance with a few tiny lies and a handful of insults. I only have a few options. I can be a giant, oozing of strength and superiority. That option is out of the question. I can be the sweet good girl that falls in love with an equally sweet boy. That idea makes me sick. I could join the ranks of Elena and Livia and evil masterminds, but it might be far too late for that. There is only one option left.

The wild card.

There is always that one person every year who makes it farther than they should have gone, the one no one saw coming. The cripple boy of the 74th Games was no one's first pick, but he managed to stay aloof until a little after the final eight. Leita Ashling of the 76th Games didn't seem to have a prayer. She made it far past the final eight. Knox Overstreet of the previous games was just an average Joe, but he ended up winning. And why do these plain tributes make it through so easily? They only have to do one memorable thing.

The cripple boy killed the boy from 4 on the first day. This gained him enough sponsors to slip by his competition. Leita Ashling teamed up with Elena. Enough said. And Knox dropped his nice guy act long enough to kill Kit. They all had a moment. And that is just what I need. I think I know how too.

So, as I stroll out of the ballroom, I plaster a smile on my face. My moment is complete and I hopefully just bought a ticket straight to the final eight. Hopefully. I still need to cross my fingers for good luck, another childish gesture I have picked up during my time here.

I guess I can say my luck turned around when I got the little note dropped on my when I was dozing on the deck. At that moment, I was at an all time low. This little slip of paper changed everything.

_Ben,_

_Meet me in the second first class cabin after a five have gone by at midnight._

_Todd_

I was a bit surprised one of the two boys in the note let it slip away and possibly into an enemy's hands. But, one man's trash is another man's treasure.

I got the idea of relaying the information to the Careers the day after I found the paper. I assumed they would appreciate the information. Marco from 1 must have been angry that District 2 took off and knowing where they are would be the perfect opportunity for the other Careers to strike. They would also be taking out that Todd boy.

And for me, I could strike a deal for them to leave me alone until the final eight.

It all worked out perfectly. Marco was pleased to receive the information and granted me immunity. Of course, even I know better than to trust him. I will still keep my distance from him and the Career Pack. But, I will have them off my back and soon, there might be three less competitors in the Games.

I descend the stairs into the second class cabin area and walk to the very last cabin in the left hall. This is my sanctuary. No one else has even set a step into the second class cabin halls and I am the only occupant in any of the rooms. I feel just a bit safer in here. Yes, I sleep with a knife, my only weapon, and the lights are always one. Yet, this room feels protected by something.

I never realized I was never a child until I slept in this room for the first time. I thought about how much I wanted someone to tuck me in and tell me everything would be all right. I wanted a story to ease my troubled mind. I even wanted a bear to hug and hold. I am over all this immature hopes now, but I still wish I had someone to repair the cracks forming in my previously indestructible and strong state of mind.

And, I always check under the bed. Because here, monsters aren't that fake or far away.

**District 11: Arin Ander's POV**

"So, do you want the information or not?" the voice snaps. I knew my District partner would settle for shady dealing eventually. She isn't stupid and she knows it is the best way to be assured some safety for awhile. Still, her information must be good. Dealing with the Careers requires something that is worth sparing a life.

I don't like the idea of eavesdropping through the leaves of a plant, but I would prefer to know what the Careers have planned then stumble blindly through the halls of this ship. So far, I haven't gotten anything. Still, Tawncy seems to have a big chunk of information. It is just taking a lot of sarcasm and insults to get it out.

"Fine, we'll stay away. If this is good, of course," Marco replies, his aggravation with Tawncy crystal clear.

"Good. Here, I'm sure this will peak your interest." I hear the click of heels and I know it is Tawncy. She knows better than anyone to leave immediately after the information is exchanged. That way, if they don't like it, she had a head start to run.

I watch her head towards one of the many lobbies, a proud smile on her face. I can't hear any sound from the Careers, which I take as a good sign. They must like the information. I crane my neck a little more towards the doorway. My ears are greeted by the sound of clicking heels with thundering footsteps as well. I snap my neck back just in time and watch Marco and Camille heading towards the lobby. I begin to think the information was fake, but I'm reassured it was not when they veer off towards the deck.

"_Don't think about following them."_ It is Aria, as usual. Her voice has been more frequent since the Games have started. Her information is good though, so I am barely complaining.

"I know that," I mutter. I can picture her ruling her eyes at me. Her advice reminds me of all the times she told me things I already know. She just was looking out for me. It makes me miss her so much.

"_Be careful. Don't forget…"_

Aria's reminder is cut off by yet another set of heels. By process of elimination, I know it must be Bliss. She walks out of the ballroom and leans her head against one of the pillars. I hear her sigh and begin to wonder if I can talk to her. We did talk a few times during training and I think I made it clear I like her a lot. I hold off though.

"Why do things have to suck so much?" Bliss wonders aloud. She had her forehead to the pillar and I'm wondering when she is going to start banging it repeatedly on the marble. "Things aren't going to work out. He is going to us all killed. This is not the right move." I feel like I am invading her privacy by listening to this, but what can I do? The minute I try to leave, is the minute she realizes I've been spying on her this whole time.

I sigh inwardly, knowing I have to tell her I am here. I get up from my hiding spot, not caring I am practically crashing into the leaves of the plant. Bliss wheels around on her heels, but has no weapon out. She sees me and seems to breathe a sigh of relief. That is until…"Did you just hear all of that?"

"I could pretend I didn't, if you want me to," I tell her. "I can also leave." I don't add "if you want me to" to my second sentence, but I hope it was implied. It seems it was when she shakes her head.

"No, I could use an outside opinion on this. Do you think the Careers are crazy? Not just my Career pack, but all the Career packs," she asks.

"I guess, but aren't we all a little crazy by now?"

"That wasn't really answering the question," Bliss snaps. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired and restless." I want to ask what she means by restless, but I assumed she wants me to answer he question before asking one of my own.

"I think Career packs tend to be less sane the rest of the tributes, but they were brought up to be that way. They are blood-thirsty and will do anything to win." That is my and most likely the entire non-Career Districts' opinion of the Career pack. "But, I don't think you are like that."

"Thanks," she says with a small smile. "I try not to be that way. I just feel like Marco is leading us into trap after trap. We already lost District 2. We are to broken to chase after fool's gold. However, I guess it would split the Career pack if we do rush into the District 11 girl's plan."

"What plan?"

"I think she gave us fake information in order to pick us off. She probably has an ally or two who are waiting for us to enter their net. But of course, Marco decided to trust her whole-heartedly. I don't know what I should do."

"If it makes you feel better, Tawncy doesn't have an ally. I have seen her around. She is just hiding out in the second class cabin area. I haven't seen her talk to a soul until now. I think everyone is so much more on their guard in this year's Games," I tell her. I have been keeping some tabs on the other tributes. I like knowing where everyone is or will be. It gives me a sense of security.

"We are confined to one ship. There is so much more of a likelihood of running into another tribute or the Career pack. It is just a matter of time before another bloodbath occurs," Bliss says with a hopeless look on her face. I agree with her. The fact that I can keep tabs on most of the tributes shows how close the quarters are.

"Well, I'm glad I ran into you," I comment in a quiet voice. Bliss smiles at this, but it is a faint smile. Maybe even conflicted. I am about to say more when I hear a call coming from the ballroom. After another process of elimination, I know it is the boy from 4. I don't have time to make a run for it, so I duck back behind my plant.

"Hey, are you okay?" I push a few of the leaves away and catch a glimpse of the boy. He puts a comforting arm around Bliss's shoulders, one that she welcomes. I feel a little flare of jealousy, but I try to assure myself it is nothing. He said he had a girlfriend in his interview.

"I'm fine. What do you make of all this?"

"Quite frankly, I think it's crazy. I think Marco has already tipped the scales of his own sanity," the boy says with a tiny smile.

"He tipped those scales years ago. I think the scale is breaking under the weight now," Bliss says and the two share a laugh. "Come on, let's get back in there." The boy drops his arm and begins walking back. Bliss looks back my way and gives a slight wave.

I wait until they are both far enough away that I can not hear their footsteps to get up. I smile to myself as I begin my way back to the upper deck. I use to dislike the tributes who participated in romances. I didn't see the point if they know the other will most likely die. Now I can see the reason for more clearly. It gives you back just a little bit of sanity.

…

**Sorry for being such a bad updater lately. I'm trying to get back on track. I've just been really busy. Anyway, I love the way this chapter turned out, especially Tawncy's POV. Next is District 10, 12, and 14 all in one and then any tribute goes. That is when everything is really going to pick up. I didn't include a back story this chapter. I didn't feel it needed one.**

**Reviews would be lovely. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	23. Hold Out

**District 14: Astrid Aelish's POV**

I transfer the object from my right to left hand, wondering how any women could actually wear a necklace that weighs at least five pounds. It must be less, but it still feels like I am holding a small weight. I trace the smooth, blue stone with my finger tip, feeling the distinct cuts in the rock.

"What is that?"

It takes much of my control to not immediately snap my hand shut around the necklace and shout "Nothing!" I am trying this new thing where I trust Karter more with things involving the Games. I know he trusts my whole-heartedly and a bit of me feels guilty for not being the same way. We are partners after all.

Karter peers at the necklace in wonder and confusion. "Where did you find it?" he asks, reaching out to touch it. He seems oddly mesmerized by the thing. This makes me want to smile that I, the girl, am the one who couldn't care less about how pretty or most likely expensive it is and Karter looks at it like it is hypnotizing him.

"It was on the vanity over there," I say, motioning to the jewelry bow propped open. The necklace was the center piece in the box. It was also the only piece. I was drawn to it because it is the only small prop in this whole room. The first class cabin is nicely furnished, but it looks like no one is occupying it. The bed is made, but no pillows adorn it. The table has no lamps and the wardrobe does not even hold a single hanger. The necklace is the only thing anyone could pick up and hold in their hand with ease.

"How do you think it got here?" I roll my eyes at the stupid question. The Capitol obviously placed it here for someone to find. That is why it seems so unsettling to me. Something is wrong with the necklace, I can feel it. Karter must have answered his own question by now and asks another. "Should we take it with us?"

I don't immediately answer the question. The necklace could be extremely dangerous since it is so out of place in the room and so expertly placed for someone to find. We would also being doing the next tributes to come in a favor by taking it with us. It would cause less danger to them. Still, there is an off chance this is a helpful find.

"I think we should take it," Karter says, swiping the necklace from my hand and holding it up to the light. "It doesn't look like it could cause much harm."

"Looks can be deceiving," I mutter under my breath before snatching the necklace back. "We really don't know what it does." I gaze down at it. I can see what Karter means; the necklace does look pretty harmless. Yet, I still can't shake the feeling something bad will happen the moment we take it out of this room.

"You could wear it. It would look pretty on you," Karter suggests in a meek tone. The comment catches me off guard and I don't know how to respond. I can feel my cheeks becoming hot and immediately looks away from him. Despite the fact I usually try not conveying a lot of emotion around him and the cameras, I am still a girl and I still do occasionally like a compliment from a boy, even one as completely unsuitable for me as Karter. "So?"

For an answer, I walk over and place the necklace back, slamming the lid shut afterwards. The bang is a bit louder than I expected and we wait in silence for a moment to make sure no one heard it and is coming towards us. "We can't take it," I say once our period of silence is over. "There are too many calculated risks. Come one, we don't want to take any chances and stay here after that noise."

I grab our pack that I had dropped on the floor when I found the necklace and sling it over my shoulders. I slide past Karter who is still looking at the necklace and open the door that leads to the first class hallway. I begin walking down when I realize I don't hear Karter's footsteps behind me. "Karter!" I yell loud enough for him to hear me, but not loud enough to draw too much attention.

Karter walks out of the room a second later, looking a bit worried and anxious, but I assume he is worried I am going to yell at him for not following me in the first place. I try to give him my most reassuring smile, but it falls flat. Something seems off about him now and I can't tell what it is. "Come on," I say in a smaller voice. I let him walk ahead of me so I can take a few seconds to observe him.

Yes, something is off. I sigh inwardly and begin to walk behind him. I'm going to have to find out what it is.

**District 10: Raze Tanner's POV**

I always believed have a person wait was one of the best ways to control a person. You force them into one spot, knowing they will have to stay if you have something they want. How I became the one without the control, I don't know.

I have been, to my best efforts, braving the arena alone. It isn't as hard as I would have expected. The ship is small, but it has ample place to duck into if you almost run into another tribute. An arena outdoors has advantage, like the ability to get food that doesn't come from sponsors, but it is harder to keep away from other tributes. That's why I assume the Capitol will never being doing an arena like this again.

I tap my fingers lightly against the wall and think about leaving. I don't need a partnership or anything the person meeting me has to offer. At least, I hope I don't. But, you never know when someone has a trick up their sleeve. I learned that from my other brother since it is one of the only intelligent things he has ever said to me that doesn't have to do with training of any sort.

The door creaks open and I see a crop of bright red hair poking inside. The door opens a little further and Dexter peers in, his brown eyes looking a bit worried. However, when he sees I have arrived, he relaxes a bit and steps in. "I'm g-g-glad you showed up," Dexter says, extending his hand. I shake it and am immediately stroke by how easy it would be to just break it.

That is one of the reasons I agreed to meet with the boy. He is extremely scrawny and small that he does not pose a threat to me physically. However, I don't trust him, but at all. I have seen him smile and it is not a pretty sight. The boy also seems to have some sanity issues that have not been dealt with.

"I know you p-p-probably don't want an alliance," Dexter starts. "B-But I think we have some things in c-c-c…" He has trouble spitting out his last word, so I try to help the poor kid out.

"Common?"

Dexter smiles a bit and nods. "I know you h-hate the Career pack."

"Hate is a strong word," I say more to myself, but it is a bit true. The Career pack this year is weak, but still just as aggravating as they are every year. They are just missing their two central players.

"I have some d-d-d…disliking for them too," Dexter tells me. He proceeds to tell me how the girl from 4 made a fool out of him on the first day of training and how on the second day the boy from 1 mocked him constantly for his stuttering. The more I listen to Dexter's anger at the pack, the more I assume he had issues with this stuff in the past. Maybe that is partially the reason he seems so on guard all the time.

"What is your point?" I finally ask. We have been in this cramped, third class cabin for awhile and I am afraid of staying too much longer.

"I w-w-want to team up and end them," he tells me. Though I know this will not make him very happy, I shake my head after he says it.

"That is too risky and others will do it eventually. I'm sure they will die off soon enough," I tell him. "I'm not much for teaming up either. Don't you think it is a bit risky?"

"W-w-we don't have to d-destroy the pack, but we can still t-t-t-team up," Dexter says, his voice becoming a bit shaky, his hand balling into fists. My ideas of him being a bit mentally unstable are becoming more and more likely.

"Sorry, I don't see it happening. I have a feeling there is going to be a lot of death soon and I don't want a partnership that end in betrayal and backstabbing," I tell him truthfully. Unfortunately, I chose the wrong place to stand. He is right by the door, so he has to leave first before I can get out of this small room.

"Of course," Dexter says through gritted teeth. I see anger boiling in his eyes, threatening to spill out in the form of angry tears. "But you'll pay. Everyone will," he mutters before yanking the door open. I watch as he storms out, continually mutter about revenge. I put my head against the wall and rub my forehead. There are enough maniacal people on this ship.

I fear I have awoken the worst one.

**District 12: Azrael Lupin's POV**

The Capitol hates me, I think in amusement. They have made it blatantly clear in the past thirty six hours they want me out of the Games, the sooner the better. I smirk as I think of their attempts: a ghost captain, a boiler room fire after I had killed Almond, and the latest interference, flying knives in the kitchen. I guess being subtle and classy no longer apply in killing me. They don't care to make it look like small involvement.

I kick the only knife remaining in the kitchen with my heel, sending it skidding across the kitchen floor before it strikes the base of the counter. Just as suspected, it vanishes upon contact. They must not want me to get my hands on another weapon. I know they would have had the knives disappear for anyone to make the game seem fair, but if they were to keep them for any tribute, it wouldn't be me.

I walk out of the kitchen before any knives or other dangerous kitchen appliances can come at my back. Anyway, I have lost valuable time during this incident. Almond has been dead for almost twenty four hours and boredom is causing my bones to ache. She herself hadn't been much of a joy killing anyhow. I need someone else to cure my case of restlessness.

I have made a list in my head of the surviving candidates. Eighteen of us are still playing; surprising considering it has been four days. Eight usually die the first day alone. Of those eighteen, only eight are girls. I can't and won't go after any of the male tributes. I would only be able to take two or three of them and of those few, not one could I have assurance of beating. I needed a female.

Of the eight girls remaining, three are Careers. The one who is not with the Career pack is neither stupid nor weak so she's out. The other two have two boys with them so they are out as well. The girl from 14 is with her District partner. I could take each separately with some chance, but not together and they seem inseparable. That leaves four.

I don't know the whereabouts of the girl from 3. She will be the easiest to take out, but not to find. The girl from 5 had a partner, but he has been on his own. The girl from 7 also had someone, but she too has split the ties. However, she is a bit too risky to go after by the looks of her character. The last possibility is a wild card. I have seen her lurking near the Career pack, but I don't know exactly where she is.

Who to choose, who to choose?

I decide not to decide right away. I will go where ever the wind takes me. I begin to walk around the ship, spying on the occasional alliance or solitary tribute. They are all bland at this point. Everyone is afraid of making the next risky move. It is too easy to find the person who killed another tribute. Everyone has their guard up. A major Capitol interference is on the brink if this continues for too long.

I am about to finish letting fate find my next girl when I find the girl. She looks scared and nervous, glancing behind and around every few seconds. It is hard being out on you own, I think to myself with a large smirk. I can't strike yet. There are too many tributes still hanging around the ship deck. I'll just do some close following. Wait until she is a simple, sitting duck.

**District 14: Karter Neandra's POV**

My eyes constantly flicker from Astrid to the bulge in the left pocket of my pants. I feel Astrid looking at me as well, trying to figure out why I am acting so strange. I don't know why either. I guess I feel a bit guilty for taking the necklace even after Astrid said not to, but it is not just guilt I am feeling. I think I'm…paranoid.

I don't know how I know that. I have never felt paranoid about anything in my whole life. Yet, something in the brain, the part that is still normal Karter, keeps whispering the word to me. What am I paranoid about? I can't quite grasp what is going on, but every time I look Astrid, the strange new part of me grows more nervous.

Astrid halts suddenly and I tense up. I turn to face her and watch as she crosses her arms, a rather annoyed look on her face. "I was just going to wait and observe you for awhile before I asked or came to a conclusion, but you are driving me crazy. What is going on with you? We have been walking around for the last hour or so and you can't stop glaring at me. Are you hiding something?"

I am prepared to just say nothing, but new Karter beats me to it. "Wouldn't you like to know," I snap at her. A quick flash of panic reaches her eyes at my answer. I know she has never seen me like this. No one has ever seen me like this because I am not like this. I don't know what just came over me.

"I really would," Astrid says with a nod. She doesn't look annoyed anymore. She looks startled, confused, and maybe even a little scared.

A thousand ways to say "I'm sorry!" enter my mind, but not one of them comes out. This does, "I see what you are trying to do. You are just playing me, trying to get close to me and my secrets so then you can use them against me later. It may have worked on tributes in the past, but it won't work on me!"

"Karter, you're scaring me," Astrid says. I can see her not trying to lose her cool, but she doesn't seem to know what to do for once. And that scares the real me. "I'm not _trying _to do anything. I just want to know why you are acting so weird."

"Why are you always acting so weird? You never let me do anything. I completely trust you, but you don't feel the same way. This isn't an alliance. This is just you telling me what to do and me being stupid enough to just do it. I have had enough!" I regret saying that immediately after. I had been feeling that in the beginning, but we have finally gotten to the point where we can rely on each other. And by the look on her face, I just blew.

"I think I have too," Astrid says in a small voice. "I don't trust a lot of people, Karter. It isn't worth it in the long run. The people you trust will either betray that trust or use it to use you. But, I did try to trust you and see, I was wrong to. Good luck, Karter." She turns around and walks away, leaving me angry only at myself and the wretched thing in my pocket.

I wait until she's far enough away to not be able to see me take it out of my pocket. I notice it was glowing before, but it slowly goes out in my hand. Astrid was right, as usual. You can't just take objects the Capitol leaves lying around. I take one last look at it before chucking it over the side of the ship.

I don't watch it go down because a little part of me will want to go get it back. I don't hear the sound of splashing water. I hear a dull thud as the necklace hits the ship's deck. I know I should go make sure it ends up in the water, but I can almost not see Astrid anymore. "Astrid!" I call and leave the necklace behind on the lower deck without a second thought. Someone else's problem, right?

…**...**

**Sorry it has taken me so long to update. I am trying to get this story back on track. So, Astrid and Karter's relationship now has suffered a setback. They are shaping up to be the most interesting pair. And Azrael is stalking someone, but who?**

**Capitol Question of the Day: Whose hands will the necklace get into next?**

**Reviews make my day. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	24. Shiloh and All Her Friends

**District 3: Shiloh McCarthy's POV**

_One, two, three, four…_

The petals of my rose flutter down on to the ship deck and I crush them one by one with the heel of my shoe. They don't make a sound, but I have found a delight in watching them break apart like my heart. Or at leas that is what my heart feels like.

Miles is dead.

It is still hard for my mind to say it in a complete sentence. Sometimes the word _dead _will cross my mind with the brief picture of my brother's face. Sometimes I will relive the moment where the table flew at him, causing him to fall to the ground. And never wake up. I tried my hardest to wake him, honest, but he wouldn't budge. I even went to get him that stuff the Capitol had put out on that pretty table, but it only ended up being a little vial with this rose on top. I still got the vial 'cause it didn't do anything to help my brother.

The only thing it does is smell gross.

I continue to crush the petals with my heel until I am left with only one little petal, hanging limply. It misses all its petal friends. So do I. I decide to leave it on the flower. I want it to be lonely with me. I tuck the stem with the one scarlet petal into the little case with the vial and continue to walk across the deck.

Occasionally I will hear voices around me, but I don't bother ducking and hiding like my brother used to make me do. Hide and go seek is too boring after playing it so many times. The voices fade away soon enough anyway. Sometimes they people were shouting like this boy and girl who were talking about trust stuff. Other times the people will be whispering about meeting somewhere secret. I ignore all of them.

"_You can't go looking for friends in low places like this Shiloh."_

That is what my brother used to say to me even before the Games started, back in District 3. I don't think he liked it there much. Neither did I. It was like this place, too lonely and too dark. I want to skip to make the time go by faster, but my heels won't let me. I had wanted to leave my shoes somewhere ages ago, but my brother said that wasn't a good idea.

I make it to the end of the higher deck. I have to places to go, down the stairs or turn around. I am about to just turn around and walk back to the other side of the ship when I notice a door next to me. Someone has jammed something into it. I go over to observe and see it is the heel of my shoe. Well, not my shoe, but someone else's shoe.

I pull and tug a little and manage to get the heel free. The door is a bit harder. I bet Miles would have been able to get it open. I tug furiously for a few minutes before the door finally gives up and opens. I step inside and smile at my accomplishment.

The room is just a control room with a bunch of bright buttons with fancy wires next to them. I am about to leave when I hear it, the crying. "Hello," I say loudly to the empty room. My eyes widen when I realize this might be another Capitol trick like the one that killed my brother. "Who ever or what ever you are, leave me alone!"

The cry continues, as if whoever is doing it doesn't even hear me. I gather up my courage and begin to walk deeper into the room. The cry gets louder the farther in a walk until it is pounding in my ears. This person is very upset. I peer behind the control board and find who is doing the crying. I am relieved it is not a Capitol thing.

It is a boy. He is cowering in the corner, tears streaming down his face. His eyes look sunken in and his lips are cracked in many places. His hands are extremely bloody, though it doesn't seem like it was from a fight. He cringes when his despairing eyes meet me and clamps his hands into fists which only causes him to cringe more from pain.

I think of the lonely petal on the flower in my pocket and how much I think it is like me. It is like this boy too. He is all alone with no one to turn to. He must have lost something to. I put my small arms around his neck and hug him. He cries harder into my shoulder and I whisper in his ear, "Don't worry, I'll help you. We're friends now and I am very good at fixing people."

**District 7: Sunday Lancast's POV**

I am now legitimately pissed off. I thought I would have seen Todd by now. In all honesty, I thought the guy would have been desperate enough to follow me. I just want to kill him and get it over with. However, me searching for him will make me look the desperate one, not him. Lying low isn't something I'm good at. And unfortunately, that is Todd's specialty.

I'm sure the Capitol is getting bored by now. No one has died in awhile. The last person to die was that girl from 9, but that was at least twenty-four hours ago. So, maybe finding Todd wouldn't be such a bad idea. It would be one less competitor and a big one at that.

It is very quiet tonight on the deck. Usually tributes can be heard sneaking around the deck, hoping to find or avoid other tributes. It is almost like everyone knows something big is going to happen soon. And there will be blood involved.

My heels click against the wooden deck as I walk along. The inside portion of the ship has become too crowded and I prefer to hear the sound of water crashing against the sides of ship than the sound of just my heels in the silent halls of the cabin areas. Anyway, you never know who is lurking inside those rooms.

I am so focused on my own thoughts; I don't notice my heel has caught on something until my face collides with the ground. I want to shriek in pain, but that would bring too much attention to me. I push myself off the ground and sit to see the damage. Though sore, my ankle seems alright. It is my nose that has been dealt the most damage. It has not been broken in a strange shape, but it hurts to touch. A few tiny drops of blood roll down on to my lip.

"Wonderful," I mutter. A broken nose isn't the worst that could happen to me, but it sure is a pain in the ass. I had ditched my packs awhile ago since they were too much weight and didn't remember seeing any medical supplies in them anyway. The only thing I have left is a knife for defense and killing. I have just been stealing food.

I forget my bleeding nose for a minute and begin to search for the thing that caused me to break my nose in the first place. The object glitters in the moonlight and I crawl over to pick it up. It is a silver necklace with a large blue stone. It is unusually heavy for a necklace, but it is beautiful and captivating none the less.

I push the fact that the necklace tripped me and broke my nose to the side. I slip it around my neck and smile down at it. "This is definitely worth holding on to."

**District 2: Anna Sinclair's POV**

I don't know if Ben doesn't notice he is tapping his foot loudly or if he is doing it just to aggravate me. That is really how our alliance has been so far. We annoy each other to no end, but it has never resulted in an actual fight. It isn't a great relationship, but it is better than being in the Careers.

"Are you doing yet?" Ben asks in a bored tone. I roll my eyes though he can't see me do it. I hate how he always acts like he could be doing better. I don't know why a fifteen year old, should be Career would think that. The only other alternative to what we are doing now is killing someone, but no one has made a sound in the past few days.

The first class cabin was nicely furnished, but it felt extremely empty. There is nothing to pick up and hold unless you possessed some kind of extreme strength. I wanted to search the cabin to see if there were any hidden supplies here. We had found two packs yesterday, lazily tossed away in one of the rooms. I guess that was just a one time thing.

I am just finishing looking around when a single pair of footsteps can be heard coming down the hall. I clench my fist in anger. Ben better not be leaving. I turn around sharply, but I find myself face to face with Ben, who must have also heard the footsteps. "It is probably just one of the loner tributes," I comment, waving it off. We can take any single tribute. We're District 2.

"Wait, what cabin is this?" Ben asks, his eyes darting around the room for the answer.

"I don't know, the second first class cabin," I answer with a shrug, not seeing why it matters.

"That's impossible, the note said five days into the Games, not eight," Ben mutters, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. Suddenly, the single pair of footsteps is followed by a pair of heels. Soon, there are four people in the hall and they all sound like they are heading for this room.

"What note?" I ask Ben, my voice set in a low whisper in hopes the Careers wouldn't hear me. Of course, leave it to Ben to keep secrets.

"It was only supposed to be one person. How did the Careers know?" Ben asks himself, ignoring me completely. It takes all my self-control not to strangle Ben right now. It would save the Careers some work. We could have maybe taken two or even three of them, but all four at a time will not end well for us. "We need to get out of here. Is there another way out?"

"You are unbelievable," I hiss, but I do start looking around for another exit. If we do get out of this, I might have to kill Ben myself. He is already across the room, pulling at every handle he can get his hands on. But it seems hopeless. Someone else is pulling at the other handle as well.

"I got it," Ben announces, pulling open another door that leads to the room's own personal deck. It may not lead directly out, but it is better than staying in this room. I run over to the door and Ben is pulling at the screen door, which seems stuck. "Come on."

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" I recognize the voice of the arrogant District 1 boy, Marco. Ben leaves the screen alone; realizing any attempt now would be futile. Everyone knows it would come to this and now it is time to see. Who is stronger: The Career pack or District 2 alone?

…

**Thoughts on Shiloh and Steam's new alliance of a sort? Sunday and the necklace? What will happen with Anna, Ben, and the Careers? Hint: there will be death and lots of blood next chapter.**

**Capitol Question of the Day: Who do you think will make it out of the Career/District 2 showdown?**

**Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.**

**-Emma**


	25. Author's Note

**I hate making chapters for just author's notes, but I feel I need to explain why I have been not updating this story. I have lost inspiration for it. However, I hate authors of SOYC who abandon the story so I will finish this story one day.**

**On a different note, I have started another SOYC that is a prequel to all these stories called Death in the Shadows. Since I have so much time in the summer, I thought it would be a good time to start this story. I am also hoping it will help my writer's block for We Live as We Die. I would appreciate it if some of you would submit a tribute.**

**I will try to update this story as soon as I can.  
-Emma**


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